


These Four Kings: Year Five

by escribo



Series: These Four Kings [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escribo/pseuds/escribo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: In this chapter, Sirius' parents are awful and discipline him with an open hand and harsh words that may be triggering to some.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: In this chapter, Sirius' parents are awful and discipline him with an open hand and harsh words that may be triggering to some.

"Station full of Muggles, of course." Orion Black swept ahead of his sons, his black cloak swirling elegantly about his legs as he strode towards the platform. Regulus walked ahead of Sirius, attempting to keep out of striking distance of his brother's temper, and Sirius sneered at him. He didn't dare pull his wand in front of his father, though he thought of nothing but ways to hex the little snitch once they were back at Hogwarts. It was Regulus' fault that they were running late, though Sirius had taken the blame. They'd been nearly out the door when Regulus had pointed out to their mother what Sirius was wearing--flared jeans, a t shirt featuring a Muggle band, and a black leather jacket that he'd picked up in a market. His father had been willing to overlook it just to be rid of them both, but then the tremendous row had followed. 

It'd become about more than just his clothes. His friends, his House, his very _existence_ seemed to irritate his mother and her voice still echoed in his ears, _blood traitor, shame of my womb, a stain upon the name of my father_. Sirius licked his lip, feeling where it had split and swollen when his mother had slapped him when he'd shouted back. _Had I known what you would become, I would have choked the life from you before you drew your first breath_. It'd been madness, and Sirius thought that he would never admit to anyone how badly her words hurt him, and worse, how his father's silence had stung.

Sirius shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his new school uniform stiff and uncomfortable after a summer out of starched shirts and pressed trousers. His Gryffindor tie had been almost as offensive as his Muggle clothing, and he'd taken whatever perverse joy he could muster in fingering the knot as his mother inspected him one final time. His father had refused to look at him since they'd left the house and walked steadily on now, Regulus, the little prince, in his wake. So focused was Sirius on their backs, on keeping exactly ten paces behind so as not to appear to belong with them at all, that he'd nearly missed a sight that stopped him completely.

It was the first time Sirius had ever seen the man he supposed must be Remus' dad. They were half-hidden in an alcove, Mr. Lupin's hand on Remus' neck. Remus had grown taller and thinner during the summer, and though he smiled, it never quite made it to his eyes. They were both dressed quite shabbily, Remus in patched brown corduroys, a faded t shirt that Sirius remembered Remus having owned since at least third year, and a patched cardigan that made him look older than fifteen. Mr. Lupin looked very tired, his hair near completely gray, though Sirius didn't think the man could be that much older than his own father. His brown trousers were also patched at the knees, his white button down shirt at the elbows. At his neck was a Gryffindor tie that Sirius knew Remus had saved everything he had in the fall of their fourth year to buy for his dad for Christmas, forgoing sweets and conserving quills and parchment to have enough. Something in Sirius' chest constricted a bit seeing it, at watching Mr. Lupin pull Remus in for a tight hug and a kiss to his forehead, at Remus hugging him back.

Sirius looked up at his own father, watched him disappear onto Platform 9 3/4, Regulus still following, and stopped in his tracks. The crowds around him--Muggle and Wizard families alike--flowed past him as he turned to watch Remus with his father for another moment before they pulled away and Sirius called _Lupin_ above the noise of the station. Remus turned his head, his features guarded until he spotted Sirius, and then he gave a very different smile than the one Sirius had just seen, one that was very real and lit up his eyes. Sirius jogged across the station, coming up behind Remus to wrap his arms around Remus' shoulders, pulling him back against Sirius' chest in an awkward if joyous half hug.

"Dad, this is Sirius Black," Remus said. "I told you about him."

"Ah, yes. Hello, Sirius. You're one of my favorite characters in Remus' stories." 

Sirius could feel Mr. Lupin take in his clothes, his hair, but he didn't feel judged for it, didn't feel laid bare. Instead, he took the hand that Mr. Lupin offered, noticing the four long, thin, familiar scars on the back of Mr. Lupin's hand. They were faded now to almost nothing and disappeared beneath the cuff of his shirt. Sirius didn't let go of Remus, just let his arm rest easily around his shoulders. He knew those same scars covered his friend's body and wondered when and how if not why, questions he had never asked before.

"You've been a good friend, I think. Improved his chess game. I had a hard time beating him at all this summer."

"Peter's better than us both," Remus said, sliding his eyes to look at Sirius and giving him a smirk.

"He was bound to be better than us at something," Sirius answered. Up close, he could see how pale Remus was, as if he'd been sick for a long time, as if he hadn't been in the sun at all since they'd left Hogwarts last June.

"Whose better at what?" Suddenly James was there with them, giving them both a tackling hug, all long arms and laughter. He was taller and broader as well, though it'd only been a few weeks since Sirius had managed to meet James in Diagon Alley. "I suspect the answer is me. I've found them, Peter. Skulking in corners," James called over his shoulder, waving over his parents before he offered both a grin and a hand to Remus' father. "Mr. Lupin, you know my dad, yeah?"

James kept up a running dialogue, re-introducing Remus' father to his own parents, Peter joining them, and Sirius took a step back, pulling Remus with him--pulled him closer to whisper in his ear so that the others wouldn't hear his question, and so that Remus' father wouldn't know what Sirius had noticed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You always say that. You don't look fine." 

James had launched into a terrific story starring himself, Sirius didn't doubt, waving his arms and demonstrating some complicated move that could have been dancing or a Quidditch move. It was hard to tell, though it had everyone's attention and their laughter, too. Remus' father looked from James to Sirius to Remus, and Sirius finally let his arm drop from Remus' shoulders.

"Neither do you," Remus said. His lips were drawn into a grim line, the furrows between his eyebrows deepening, and Sirius had to look away, feeling a strange embarrassed enjoyment at being under Remus' scrutiny. "What happened to your lip?"

"Nothing. Must have hurt it saying goodbye to my mother." Sirius carefully watched for Remus' reaction, his shock and concern clear on his face, even as he tried to control them. Sirius found he needed them like some sort of salve that Madame Pomfrey would have offered for his wounds. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say he didn't care about his parents or Remus' concern or anything else, even as he pushed the toe of his polished dress shoe against Remus' ragged black All Star, his mouth quirking up into something like a smile. "Does it make me look tough?"

"I wasn't aware you needed assistance with that."

"You present a bit of competition with the birds to James and myself, tripping over themselves as they do about your scars and your air of mystery."

"They don't." Remus dropped his head and hid his blush beneath hair that had gone slightly shaggy, though Sirius could see he was smiling, too, pleased if embarrassed. Sirius barked out a laugh, clapping his hand on Remus' back, and felt his own cheeks warming up when he realized everyone had stopped talking to look at them. Their looks were expectant, as if wanting to know the joke, except for Mr. Lupin who looked torn between being happy to see his son being included and fear that perhaps the joke would be on Remus. Sirius stepped in front of Remus and looked to James for help, which was easily given.

"Is it time to go?" James asked.

"I think it is," Mr. Potter said, looking at his watch.

"James, do you have your owl? Peter?" James' mother began to herd the boys and their bags toward the barrier leading to the platform. "Sirius, dear, where's your trunk?"

"My father sent it on, Mrs. Potter."

"You're going to miss your train, dad," Remus said, moving past Sirius to put his hand on his father's arm. "Do you have your ticket?"

"I'm fine, Remus. I can catch the next if I miss this. I'll help you with your trunk. You're still weak," Mr. Lupin said as he reached for Remus' battered trunk, staggering a bit beneath the weight of it. Sirius took the handle from him, grinning back at them both as he carried it off. 

“Thank you, Sirius,” Mr. Lupin said, patting Sirius on the shoulder as he passed.

Sirius' grin turned lopsided, missing to Mr. Lupin's heavy accent and the noise of the station what he said next, but Remus must have heard because his sudden, unexpected laughter rang out loud and clear. The sound seemed to catch his father by surprise and Sirius couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was just as foreign to Mr. Lupin's ears as it had become to his mates. They had all turned to watch, Sirius greedily so, especially when Mr. Lupin caught Remus' face between his hands and stared at him hard, his eyes going glassy, before he pulled Remus into a hug.

"C'mon, Sirius," James said, turning away as though he felt the moment was somehow too private, but Sirius continued to watch, unable to look anywhere else. Remus didn't laugh much and almost never out loud, not like he used to, not like when they were younger, and Sirius wished he had heard what had caused it, wished he could write it down and make Remus sound like that more often. James caught Sirius by the arm, and pulled him through the barrier, Sirius holding back just for another moment longer to see if he could hear what else Mr. Lupin would say--to hear what a father who loved his son would say.

"Write to me."

"I will, dad."

"I love you. Be good. Be safe, Remus"

"I will. I promise. I love you, too."

Sirius watched as Mr. Lupin pulled Remus down for another kiss to his cheek before he rushed away, as Remus stood watching his father disappear into the crowds. It was only then that Sirius allowed himself to fall through the barrier, his chest aching in a hollow, unfamiliar way.

"Where have you been, Sirius? I don't like to be kept waiting."

Sirius stumbled as his father's fingers dug into his arm. As soon as he was righted, he attempted to shake off his father's heavy hand, a sulk already turning his lips down. He slid his eyes to James, embarrassed, before his father shook him less gently. "Okay," he said, lowering his eyes as he dropped the handle to Remus' trunk. "I just stopped to say hello to my friends."

“Your _friends_ can wait,” his father said, looking to where the Potters stood beside James and finally on Peter as he came through the barrier.

“Okay,” Sirius said again, quietly, glad when Remus didn't immediately follow Peter. 

His dad straightened up, his eyes still on Peter before his lips curled into a sneer and he turned away. “Come along, Sirius. I wish to speak with the Dolohov’s before the train leaves.”

James stepped forward as soon as Mr. Black's back was turned and grabbed the handle to Remus’ trunk. He gave Sirius a tight lipped smile and nodded toward where Mr. Black was walking across the platform, families parting to let him pass and Regulus following in his wake. When Sirius still didn't move, James nudged Sirius forward, whispering. “I’ve got it. Just go.”

Sirius reluctantly followed behind his father and Regulus. When Mr. Black greeted the Dolohov's, Sirius jammed his hands deep into his pockets, his eyes going hooded and his expression distant. He didn’t listen to his father’s conversation, didn’t acknowledge Regulus at all, and ignored the whispers of the boys around him, mostly Slytherins whose fathers would like to be able to say they’ve spoken with Orion Black whilst waiting for the train. 

After a few moments, Sirius chanced a look back to where the Potters stood and saw Remus as he came through the barrier. Remus met Sirius’ eyes, saw that Sirius was with his father, and quickly looked away. There was no chance, Sirius knew, of his father wanting to meet _his_ friends. As he continued to watch, Remus found Peter, James and the Potters, reached for his trunk though James shook his head and sat on the lid to keep Remus from lifting it himself. James’ mother hugged each of the boys in turn and his father shook their hands and hugged James, and Sirius took a step forward, almost unconsciously, wanting to tell the Potters good-bye, but his father shot his hand out again, clamping onto Sirius' shoulder and staying his feet.

“It’s about discipline,” his father was saying. “Dumbledore shows none, of course. It has to be taught at home. We considered sending our eldest to Durmstrang but Black’s have always attended Hogwarts. One bad Headmaster couldn’t change that.”

“Dumbledore is weak,” Mr. Dolohov agreed, his own son standing behind him wearing Slytherin colors. The boy smirked at Sirius, mimicking a fist behind his father’s back. “I’ve heard he even wants to abolish the four Houses and have all the students integrate. It's ridiculous, of course. He doesn't understand the importance to our children to meet the right people and keep the right company--your youngest, Regulus, for example. I hear he’ll be probably be seeker for Slytherin this year.”

“He knows how to take advantage of his opportunities, something his brother could learn.” Orion looked down at Sirius, his hand tightening its grip. “Regulus stays out of trouble and knows his place. His brother is rebellious and Dumbledore allows it, indulges him as high-spirited. A firm hand is what's needed so that they learn such behavior won't be tolerated.”

“Yes,” Mr. Dolohov agreed, looking down at Sirius as well and Sirius met his stare with one of his own. 

At last, the final boarding was called for the train, and there was a sudden flurry of hugs and hurried good-byes from the families around them as the platform began to clear. Mr. Black sent Regulus onto the train, his hand still heavy on Sirius’ shoulder. He said his good-byes to the other fathers, wishing their sons well, and Sirius noted that it was more than his father had ever wished for him. Finally, when they were nearly alone on the platform, his father rounded on him, his mask of congeniality gone.

“You'll apologize to your mother--”

“She hit me.”

“And you'll treat your brother with respect this year. You will obey me, Sirius Black. I will not tolerate this behavior. You’re an embarrassment. I’m ashamed to even call you my son.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You need to understand where your loyalties lie and live up to the Black family name." The sound of his voice made Sirius quake and take a step back when he pointed his finger close to Sirius’ face. "I don't care which House you were sorted in, you are the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, and while I’m led to believe that this show of rebellion is common at your age, _you_ are not common. The Blacks are not common.”

“This isn’t a phase that I’ll grow out of, father. This is who I am.”

“You are _my son_. Those blood traitors and mudbloods with whom you’ve associated yourself have polluted your thinking.”

“Don’t call them that.”

“They are not proper associates for you,” Mr. Black said, his voice suddenly calm. “Amerson” he said, and Sirius realized that his father was greeting another acquaintance, and Sirius tried to take advantage of the momentary distraction to twist out from his father's grasp. “Two sons in this year, I understand.”

"I did think of Durmstrang, but Hogwarts is the old alma mater, of course" the other man called out as he retreated toward the platform, a tall woman following in his wake. 

“Pure bloods, Sirius. All the men of my acquaintance and all your brother’s friends. You don’t have to demean yourself.”

“They’re my family.”

Mr. Black grabbed Sirius’ hand, dragging him closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose, his father's features twisted in anger so that Sirius knew he'd pushed too far. “I am your family, Sirius Black, and you will do as I tell you. The Potters and the Pettigrews are blood traitors and that other boy is beneath your notice. Muggle born, no doubt.”

Sirius knew immediately that his father was speaking of Remus and felt something hard drop in his stomach at the thought that his father had even noticed him. “His father is a wizard,” he whispered.

“Half breed then. No better than an animal.”

“Stop,” Sirius pleaded, still trying to pull his hand away but his father only jerked him closer, crushing Sirius’ hand in his own. A sudden fury seemed to have overtaken his father at the very thought of Remus, and for a horrible moment Sirius worried that he somehow knew exactly what Remus was. Sirius saw how his father's eyes burned as he stared at a point behind Sirius, and Sirius was afraid to turn, afraid to see that murderous rage leveled at the friend he tried so hard to protect.

“He deserves to be tied to a yoke. When the Dark Lord liberates the Wizarding world, creatures like him will be the first to be crushed beneath our boots and then we will take our rightful place."

It felt as though all the air had been pressed from Sirius' lungs and he gasped, pulling harder to get away, to board the train before he was left behind. 

“It's coming, Sirius. Your brother will bring me honor. What will you bring me?” Orion tightened his grip on Sirius’ hand and took Sirius’ chin between his fingers, turning them from the view of the happier families surrounding them, many of whom were still calling their final good-byes over the sound of the train. “Disgrace and scorn. I will not have it.”

“You’re hurting me, father.” Sirius’ voice sounded strangled to his own ears, and he swallowed hard against the weakness he knew his father would perceive.

“Perhaps it will help you to remember who you are.”

Sirius didn’t cry out when his father tipped his fingers back, bones snapping with a dull crack though the pain was sharp. The engines flared and the doors to the train began to slide shut as Sirius finally managed to pull away and took a step back, out of his father's reach. His father straightened, the terrifying mask he’d just worn sliding into another, and Sirius couldn't bear to see if there was another friend of the proper sort to be greeted with such good cheer. Instead, he turned and ran for the train, more afraid to miss it now than anything else, and threw himself aboard.

Outside the carriage window, Sirius watched his father watch him until the train sped around a corner and he felt as though he could breath again. He sagged against the wall, surprised to find his wand in his hand. 

“Not exactly daddy’s favorite, are you, Black.” 

“Shut it, Dolohov.

“I’m just giving you a chance to meet the right kind of people.”

“If you find any, let me know," Sirius spat out, pushing past the older boy. 

“C’mon now, Black. I’m just trying to be nice.” Dolohov grabbed Sirius’ arm and slammed him against the carriage wall. “I got the impression that your dad thinks you need to meet some new friends.”

“I don’t know, Dolohov. I think the friends he has are pretty good. Don’t you agree, Black?” It was James, his wand pressed suddenly at Dolohov’s neck, and relief flooded through Sirius at the sight of him. “All right, Sirius?”

“Fine.” 

Dolohov took a step back, his empty hands raised in surrender. “Alright then. It was just a bit of fun. Ask Loony Lupin how much fun I can be. He'll tell--”

Sirius raised his wand and hexed Dolohov before he could finish his sentence. Dolohov doubled over, his hands covering his face as he moaned. Another Slytherin stepped out of a compartment to see what was going on, and Sirius hexed him just as quickly. 

“Alright, Sirius,” James said as he grabbed Sirius by his shirt, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon. You’ve made your point.” James shoved Sirius into their compartment, pulling the door shut behind them. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Where’s Remus?” Sirius looked around as if Remus could be hidden anywhere in the tiny room. He hated the waver he heard in his voice and hoped it only sounded like that to his own ears. He couldn't help the spike of fear that seized him, as if afraid that they might have come for Remus already--imagining Remus in a cage, Remus dead--and his fingertips danced on his wand.

James took a step closer, reaching for Sirius’ shoulder though Sirius shook him off. “What just happened?”

“Where is Remus?” Sirius raised his voice, growing angrier as James stood looking at him as though he’d grown a second head, as if he was as mad as his mother. “Did he get on the train?

“I’m here, Sirius, and the whole car can hear you, by the way.”

Sirius turned when Remus slid the door open, and pushed his hand roughly through his hair, relief making him feel weak in the knees for the second time. “Why do you have your school robes on already?”

“Why do you?”

“My mother has no appreciation for Muggle fashion.”

“I read in the paper that the Chudley Cannons signed Oliver Pollock as their new beater,” Peter said loudly, his hand curled tight around a battered copy of _Quidditch Weekly_.

James shook his head a bit, stepping in front of Peter in case Sirius turned on him. “Our Remus has news," James said. "A terrible blow has been dealt to the Marauders.”

Sirius could tell that James had forced his voice to be calm, sitting only when he seemed satisfied that Peter was probably not in immediate danger of being covered in boils. The false cheer in his voice only sent another wave of dread through Sirius and he looked down at them both. He felt a flush work its way up his chest and blossom over his cheeks, embarrassment settling in along with a dull ache behind his eyes as the adrenalin left his body. He turned back to Remus, watching as he crammed his Muggle clothes into a small carry on bag. For a moment, he considered hexing them all speechless just so that there could be quiet for the next several hours. 

“What news?” He finally asked when he could think of words to form.

“What happened to your hand?” Remus asked quietly, ignoring Sirius' own question as he straightened up from his task and looked at Sirius. 

For a moment, Sirius got the silence he wanted though he could only wonder how to answer Remus' question and ease the worry he could see in James' eyes without telling them the truth. He rolled his shoulders as if to dislodge their concern and lifted his chin. “It's nothing. What’s your news? What’s Potter talking about?”

Remus ignored Sirius for a second time and reached for his hand, sucking in a breath when he saw the bruises blooming across Sirius’ skin, the way three of his fingers twisted in the wrong direction, the swelling only just started. He turned Sirius’ hand in his own, cradling it against his chest, and moved his own fingertips softly along Sirius’ wrist. James and Peter stood up to look as Sirius attempted to pull his hand away, but Remus was firm and Sirius found he didn’t want to move away from Remus’ gentle touch anyway.

“They look broken,” Peter said.

“Thank you for that, Nurse Pettigrew. I thought perhaps--”

“Shut it, Sirius,” Remus said. “And put your wand away.” 

Sirius narrowed his eyes but said nothing more. James put himself between Sirius and Peter again before he took Sirius’ wand from between his fingers and slid it into a pocket in Sirius' robe. James looked down to where Remus was holding Sirius’ hand, grimacing a bit. “What happened? Did your father--”

“I told you it’s nothing.” He tried again to pull his hand away from Remus, but Remus put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, stopping him, and then turned again, backing them both against the window so that Sirius couldn’t pull away. Sirius sagged against him a bit, his hand going to Remus’ waist as he gave in. “Just fix it, Remus.”

“I’ve never done a healing charm on someone else,” Remus said even as he reached for his wand. 

Remus moved so that Sirius’ battered hand was in front of him, holding Sirius steady against the movement of the train as he raised his wand, whispering the incantation twice to make sure he was comfortable saying it and remembered all the right inflections and movements. The door opened suddenly, startling them all, and Lily stepped inside the compartment. Sirius watched as she took in the scene: Remus with his wand out, its tip pointed at Sirius’ hand. James’ hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Peter sunk down into one of the seats, watching with wide eyes, his face bloodless as he worried his hands together as if washing without water. 

“What are you lot doing?” 

“Nothing Evans. Don’t you need to go hold Snivellus’ hand?” Sirius asked, forcing his voice to sound hard. "He'll be crying for his mummy with you gone."

"I came to collect Remus." Lily looked at Sirius with disdain, pinching her lips and wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something deeply unpleasant before she returned her attention to Remus. “We need to-- What are you doing?”

“A healing charm.”

“What happened?” Lily stepped closer, her eyes going to Sirius’ hand, and Sirius noticed the shining prefect's pinned to her robes. _Of course, she would be a prefect_ , he thought.

“Sirius was helping Remus with his trunk,” Peter lied easily from where he sat.

“And the handle snapped,” James added.

“And fell on his foot,” Remus finished lamely. They all look at him. “The handle fell on his foot, I mean. The trunk on his hand. You know what I meant. When he was lifting it up. Onto his hand.”

Lily shook her head as if she didn’t believe them anyways. “Have you done them before, Remus? You could cause more damage, you know. I could go get the Head Boy and Girl. They’ll know what to do.”

“Lupin will do it,” Sirius said when Lily opened her mouth to argue. “I don’t trust anyone else, and certainly not Wilkins, head boy or no. Just hurry up.”

“I’ve done them before, Lily,” Remus said quietly, his voice calm. Remus held Sirius’ hand lightly in his own and spoke the incantation, tapping the end of his wand against the back of Sirius’ hand. The bones straighten themselves with a dull crunching sound that made Lily’s clench her hand at her stomach and her face twist. James grabbed Sirius to keep him on his feet as he leaned heavily on Remus, the sway of the train threatening to dump them all. Sirius tightened his hand around Remus’ waist as they were tipped against the window, and buried his face into Remus’ neck to keep Lily from seeing how much pain he was in.

After a moment, when they had righted themselves, Remus said, “Sorry. I should have warned you how much it would hurt. Better?”

Sirius flexed his hand and nodded, his face still against Remus' neck. All the boys seem to realize at the same time how intimately close they were standing together and took quick steps away, Remus going to his small bag. James turned to Lily with a bright smile while Sirius jammed his hand into his pocket so they couldn’t look at it anymore, and tossed himself down into the seat by the window. He felt sick and tired, gray around the edges, as he watched Remus' precise movements to have something else to focus on and wasn't surprised when he found comfort in them. “I don’t suppose you could leave us for a bit, Evans.”

“Gladly. I just came to get Remus. The prefects have a car to themselves at the front and we’re meant to sit together for a meeting.”

“Prefect?” Sirius exploded, coming to his feet again. Once more, he found his wand in his hand his hand before James could stop him, and James moved to stand in front of Lily this time, though all she did was tilt her head at Sirius and cross her arms in front of her chest.

Remus forced himself to meet Sirius’ eyes before turning away quickly, guilty. Sirius recognized it in the twist of his lips, believing he’d betrayed them all.

“I told you, old man," James say. He settled back onto the bench next to Peter and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "Life is never going to be the same."

“I’ll be up in a minute, Lily,” Remus said and Lily finally looked away from Sirius, rolling her eyes at the boys on her way out. The door slid shut behind her and they were left in silence. Remus pointedly did not look at either James or Sirius, but pulled out the badge that he’d apparently kept in the envelope it had been delivered in. 

“Help me pin this on, Peter,” he said quietly, holding it out.

“Are we going to be dressing you next, Prefect?” Sirius spat out, feeling a different kind of relief at having another direction for his anger. “Cutting up your food and wiping your--”

“It’s silver.” Remus said quietly, still holding it out to Peter. Peter stood and took the badge out, attempting to pin it to Remus by just grabbing a handful of his robe. Instead, he managed to jab Remus in the shoulder. Remus jerked back, hissing, his hand going up to catch the falling badge as Peter lifted both his hands away and took a step back. The badge grazed Remus’ fingertip as it fell to the floor, and Remus stuck his fingertips into his mouth, his other hand rubbing at his chest, his eyes closed against the sharp burn.

Sirius stood and pushed Peter from his way, and grabbed the badge from the floor. He turned Remus by the shoulder, pushing his back against the door. He tugged down the collar of his t shirt to look at the mark on Remus' skin. Once he was satisfied that it wasn't that bad, he slipped his hand inside Remus’ robe and pinned on the badge, staring now into Remus’ eyes. Remus didn’t look away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I didn’t know until this week.”

“You could have sent me an owl.”

“If I had an owl to send. Besides I was a little preoccupied.” 

Sirius was suddenly counting back days, trying to remember when the full moon was. He noticed again how pale Remus was, the dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes, and Sirius' lips twisted a bit in a way that he knew Remus would recognize as guilt.

“You told James and Peter,” Sirius whispered, not quite ready to give up his argument.

“Just now on the platform. Just before we got onto the train. Can we not fight about this right now? It’s not like I chose myself.” Remus rubbed his fists into his eyes then pushed his fingers through his hair. Sirius grabbed his hand, looking at the angry little marks, at a tiny blister developing on the tip of Remus’ finger until Remus pulled his hand away. “I have to go.”

“Right.” Sirius didn’t move, still staring at Remus. If they'd been alone, if James and Peter weren’t there, Sirius would have been offering him a quiet apology or at least an explanation, though Remus would probably have to needle it out of him. Remus looked too tired to even try. 

It was hours later before Remus rejoined them, not on the train but as they sat down to dinner in the Great Hall, and Sirius was exceedingly cross again. James had spent the journey to Hogwarts trying to keep Sirius from hexing Peter and Peter from gnawing his fingernails to the quick. He was silent now, they all were, especially Remus, through the sorting and the speeches. While Sirius wanted it before, the silence, it reminded him too much of dinners at Grimmauld Place, even here, where it's supposed to be safe. Sirius shifted along the bench next to Remus, glancing over his shoulder to glare in Regulus' general direction, still convinced this was his fault, and avoided James' eyes.

"How many times have you burned yourself on that thing?" Sirius asked when he finally turned back around. He grabbed Remus' hand, Remus' fork clattering down onto his plate, and looked at the angry red marks and tiny blisters before Remus jerked his hand away.

"I keep forgetting it's there," Remus hissed back.

Sirius grabbed the badge from Remus’ robe, hearing the fabric rip a little before Remus could pull away from him completely, and slammed it down onto the table between them, as if it'd done him some great personal offense. They continued on with picking at their dinners in silence with James and Peter talking in stilted tones about nothing and everything, anything to pretend that whatever was happening between Remus and Sirius _wasn't_ actually happening. Sirius didn't blame them, though he squirmed beneath James’ looks of concern, and hated that he couldn’t think of how to fix things. It seemed too far gone for that, he had gone too far. When Remus was done eating, he got up without a word to anyone, leaving his badge. James reached for it but Sirius was quicker, grabbing it and sliding it into his pocket. James didn't say a word but pushed back his plate, looking away from Sirius.

There was more silence in their dorm that night. Peter and James stayed in the common room until curfew, leaving Sirius to unpack by himself as Remus had gone off to do whatever it was that prefects did away from their mates. Sirius had pulled his curtains shut tight and lay in bed, listening for when Remus came in, and then, when he was sure Peter and James were asleep, he had to force himself to creep over to Remus’ bed.

“Are you awake?” He whispered into the dark and heard Remus roll over and pull the curtains aside. He took that as invitation enough and crawled onto Remus’ bed. He pulled the curtains closed behind him and cast a _lumos_ spell, tucking his wand into a space on the headboard. For a moment, he just watched Remus as he blinked in the sudden light before he sat up against his pillows. “Where were you?”

“Professor McGonagall’s office.”

“What did she want?”

"She thought I looked ill and wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Are you?"

Remus shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it. "She also wanted to talk about why they chose me to be prefect. You know, big responsibility because they trust me, she trusts me, and could I please do something with Potter and Black so that we don’t have any repeats of last year’s Valentine’s Day fiasco."

Sirius ducked his head, his lips quirking up into a half smile, remembering the sea of pink robes along the Slytherin side of the Great Hall at breakfast. He shifted to lay down on the bed with Remus, Remus moving over to make room and having to roll onto his side. Sirius's shoulder still pressed into his chest; they were getting too big to share. 

"I suppose it had to be one of the four of us,” Sirius said, folding his hands behind his head. “You are the good boy."

Remus huffed out at last, smiling slightly, and Sirius knew he was forgiven. "That's what my dad called you, when you took my trunk. He said you seemed like a good boy."

"No wonder you laughed." Sirius turned, his eyes flashing as he grinned and Remus finally grinned back at him, a true smile all the way up to his eyes. They were quiet for a moment before Sirius finally had to look away, feeling warm and funny inside. He looked instead at the ribbing of canopy on Remus' bed, whispering what he had wanted to say all day. "I'm sorry, Remus, for what I said earlier. How I acted."

"It's okay."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No."

"I just get so angry sometimes, you know, with my family, and then you didn't come back to sit with me--us--on the train."

"I fell asleep during the prefects' meeting; it was dull as tombs. Lily said she didn't want to wake me."

"Are you sick, like McGonagall said?" Remus was quiet for so long that Sirius was sure he wasn't going to answer and he began to wonder if maybe Remus had fallen asleep. When he turned, he found that Remus was watching him.

“My mum found another cure, in Romania," Remus said after a while. My dad didn't want me to do it and they had a big row. He finally consented because I told him that I wanted it."

"You didn't you, did you." Statement, not a question. Sirius already knew the answer. 

"No. They don't work, they never do. There is no cure. She--it makes her feel better, you know, my mum, that they're trying. But this time, it-- It made it worse somehow and I was sick for a long time after my transformation in July. This full it was even worse. My dad wanted to take me to St. Mungos but mum wouldn’t hear it, afraid that I wouldn’t come back. She’s afraid of the Ministry." 

Remus sunk down in his bed a little and having nowhere else to go, rested his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius was still beneath him, waiting. After a few moments of silence, Sirius put his hand on Remus’ warm back and felt Remus relax against him.

"My dad put his foot down. No more cures. Mum has been, I don’t know, _worse_ since we came back. She cries every time she looks at me. I was glad when we got to King’s Cross. My dad thought that it was going to be too much for me to come back and I told him I was fine, that it doesn’t hurt. He knew I was lying but I had to come back.”

“Does it hurt?”

“All the time now, like I have too many bones in my body. McGonagall is going to talk to Dumbledore and wants me to see Madame Pomfrey tomorrow after classes.” Remus shook his head and sighed, his fingers plucking at the buttons on Sirius’ night shirt for a bit before he relaxed his hand. Sirius picked it up to look at the burn marks in the light from his wand.

“He was so proud, Sirius, when I got that stupid badge. He kept telling everybody about this honor I got at school, though I don’t think any of them knew what he was talking about, or even believed him. People like me don't go to school usually. It didn’t matter. It was nice, you know, to pretend that I’m normal for a little bit. To let him think that his son isn’t a--”

“Don’t Remus.” Sirius put his hand on the back of Remus’ head protectively and pulled him closer.

Remus took a deep, shuddering breath and rubbed his forehead against Sirius' shoulder, staving off tears, before settling again. "I would have told you but the letter came while we were in Romania and they didn't tell me until we were sure I could come back. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. I was being a prat because my dad pissed me off."

“Seemed like more than just a disagreement. He hurt you." Remus took Sirius’ in his own, looking at the bruises and Sirius let him. "What were you fighting about?” 

“It was nothing, just forget about it." Sirius really wished he could forget the things his father said to him but he reasoned it didn't matter now that he was back at Hogwarts. There would only be Christmas holidays home and enough extended family around then that fighting was nearly impossible. One more year and then he'd be seventeen. It wouldn't matter what his family said or did, then. He only had to make it through next summer and that seemed a long ways off, especially when he had bigger concerns and even bigger plans to help Remus. "It'll be okay, Remus. Dumbledore will know what to do.”

“It was easier when I was younger. My bones were more pliable. They slipped back into place easier. Now…” Remus’ voice trailed off and he spread his fingers along Sirius’ so they were palm to palm, nearly evenly matched but Sirius’ hand was wider and Remus’ fingers were longer, thinner, his knuckles slightly swollen.

"Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing James, go back to sleep." Sirius lifted up, Remus going too, dropping each other’s hands, listening as James crawled out of his bed. The curtains were pushed aside and James stood for a minute staring owlishly at them before he crawled in to stretch out half on top of them both, his head on the pillow between them, nearly knocking Sirius off the side of the bed. 

"Not big enough for all three of us, you great oaf," Sirius grumbled.

James just yawned at him and pushed his glasses higher onto his nose. "We've got to do something about this Prefect business, lads. It just won't do."

"I took five points each from three different Slytherins tonight."

"I don't suppose one of them was my brother."

"No. I didn't see him."

"Still, it's a good show, Moony,” James said. “A good start."

Peter sat up suddenly in his bed, looking more asleep than awake, his hair twisting in all different directions. “Are we going to the kitchens?” he asked and James, Remus and Sirius laughed at him.

“Go back to sleep, Peter.” 

“My mum sent some cauldron cakes.”

“Then you’re formally invited to the party on Moony’s bed,” James called. 

Peter stumbled over, bringing the carefully wrapped cakes and putting them into a small pile on the middle of the bed, and climbed onto the foot of the bed. James sat up, reaching for one, dislodging both Remus and Sirius from the edge of the bed. James caught Remus by his arms before he fell but Sirius landed on the floor with an _oomph_.

“Where did Sirius get off, to? I could have swore he was right here. Did you see him Peter?” James asked, looking around as if he couldn’t see Sirius. “More cakes for us, boys.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“I never have.”

As Sirius stood, he began rubbing his hip and mock limped to his bedside table to retrieve Remus’ badge while the other boys laughed at him. Sirius put the gleaming badge next to the cakes and pointed his wand at it.

“I don’t suppose you know any alchemist's charms that will turn it into gold,” Sirius asked James.

“Professor McGonagall said that she would fix it tomorrow.”

“That'd be dead useful, wouldn't it? A little beyond my current talents, though. Just do a protective charm on it,” James said and Sirius tried two before his third charm worked and Remus could pick it up without being hurt. 

“Thanks.” Remus looked at it for a moment and then pinned it to his pajamas. “Five points to Gryffindor.”

“I brought the cakes,” Peter said, reaching for a second.

“Ten points, then, to the founder of the feast.”

“Ten?” Sirius asked. He lifted his chin and tugged his pajamas straight, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulders, as the other boys laughed at him again, Remus the loudest. Sirius felt that strange warmth flood him again from head to toe at the sound. This time the relief he felt was real and lasting and he was sure they would have a good year.


	2. Chapter 2

The boys were in the library after dinner, working on their potions projects, or rather Remus was working on his project whilst James and Sirius talked about Quidditch and Peter was serving detention with Madame Pince. Last year had been the first year James had been on the Quidditch team as Chaser, and he had thought it was his favorite thing about being at Hogwarts. This year, with Sirius as keeper, it was nearly perfect. Next year, James was sure he'd be made captain and Peter would be big enough to be a beater. He had it all planned out. Literally. He had rolls and rolls of parchment with strategies and training schedules and ideas to improve the Gryffindor team. The only thing that would make it better to James would be if he could work out where Remus would fit.

James thought that Remus was a good flyer when he was using either James or Sirius' broom and not one of the old, temperamental school brooms. He had good reflexes, too, and didn't flinch when a bludger came his way, unlike Peter, which James was helping him get over by flinging books, shoes, and whatever else was handy at Peter's head whenever he looked like he was getting too comfortable. It made sense that Remus should be on the team. 

James glanced up from his latest scheme--a detailed regimen of calistenics modified from the latest issue of _WQ_ , liberated from the bag of a seventh year Ravenclaw--to look at where Remus was struggling over his own bit of parchment and no fewer than five potions texts with titles like _Potions Equations for the Puzzled_ and _Elementary Equations for Your Effortless Edification_. Since the summer, Remus had been thinner and paler, the build-up to the full moons making him more tired than usual, and though Remus never complained, Sirius had said he was hurting more and immediately after the moon was even worse. Even now, nearly a week and Madame Pomfrey's best efforts later, Remus still had a gash on his leg that wouldn't heal properly and deep bruises across his back and shoulders. 

It was Remus' furry little problem that kept him off the pitch and falling behind in his classes. Even during new moons, Remus had begun to fall asleep during classes, something he'd never done before, and it was all the rest of the Marauders could do to make sure that Remus didn't get caught. Professor McGonagall might understand and just make him go to the infirmary for a couple of nights, as much as Remus would hate it, but Professors Slughorn and Vector would hand out detentions. James thought it was scandalous--positively un-Marauder-like--to receive detention if nothing had been blown up or someone hadn't screamed.

"Quit staring at me, James," Remus said, though he didn't even look up from his roll of parchment, just kept working at his column of figures.

"I'm not."

"It's because you remind him of Evans, what with your delicate features and all."

"Sod off, Black," Remus said, but he was grinning now though he still didn't look up, and James noticed again how tired he appeared.

"I'll tell you who's been staring at you since we came in," Sirius said and both James and Sirius twisted in their seats to scowl at Severus, who sat at the next table over. Severus looked away when he realized that he'd been caught, leaning down to whisper something to Lily. When Sirius turned back around, he began to worry his thumb nail between his teeth, but James was caught on Lily.

"The greasy git," James muttered.

"Ignore him. He's probably just trying to figure how to avoid having to tutor me again."

"What do you think she sees in him?" James ruffled the back of his hair, willing Lily to look up and yet when she did, he immediately turned back in his seat as if he hadn't been watching her at all.

"She's not dating him."

"How do you know?" James narrowed his eyes at Remus, remembering that Remus and Lily had patrol together a couple of nights before the full moon. Remus had promised to say good things to Lily about James, but James wasn't ever sure if Remus actually did, or if he just said it to shut James up--Sirius' theory. James looked over his shoulder to look again at Lily and found that she was still watching him. Or maybe Remus or Sirius, or quite possibly Edmund Gordon Forbes who was sat at the next table over and appeared to be struggling with the same assignment as Remus.

"Because she told me she wasn't allowed to date yet, not until she turns 16 in January." Remus glanced up from his work to look at James, and James could have sworn that Remus was blushing. It was hard to tell because sometimes Remus was just feverish, but James still narrowed his eyes at him again. They had all agreed that Lily was off limits once James had declared his undying love. The declaring part had actually been unspoken and so was the agreement, actually, now that James thought of it, but he was sure they knew.

"You're staring again."

"I'm not."

"Nevermind. I’m never going to get this. My dad said I should think of it like chemistry--"

"What's that?" James asked.

"Muggle potions,” Sirius answered. "You remember from Muggle Studies. It's how they make their medicines and such. Did your dad teach you that, too?"

"We had a book when I was little of how to make ink and a miniature volcano." James perked up at the idea of a miniature volcano and leaned forward on his elbows, pushing his glasses up. Remus shook his head no when James opened his mouth. "Not a real volcano. And it was more exciting when I was seven and didn't know about magic."

"Potions is nothing like chemistry," Remus continued before James could get a word in. "Chemistry makes sense and you don't have to remember incantations and which way to stir things and for how long. I mean, you have to remember other things but my dad made it fun." Remus tossed down his quill and pushed his books away. He looked absolutely miserable but before James could say anything, he had folded his arms onto the table, put his head down, and was out. 

"I think he's asleep."

"Remus," James said, stretching across the table to shake Remus' shoulder. If Madame Pince caught him, Remus would definitely be joining Peter for at least a night's worth of detention. 

"Let him be." Sirius slid the parchment from beneath Remus' hand and took up his quill. 

James watched as Sirius began to work quickly through the equations, adding the notations for number of rotations to stir the cauldron and correcting some of Remus’ earlier attempts. He didn’t understand why this was so hard for Remus when he managed through arithmancy with ease, and would wax poetic about the beauty of numbers if given the slightest chance. It was the lycanthropy he was sure, even if he couldn’t quite figure out how being a werewolf would make one bad at Potions.

“We’ve got to try again with Peter,” James said almost to himself. He leaned back in his chair and took his glasses off to clean the lenses with his shirt tail, his eyes still on the now fuzzy Remus. Sirius looked up at James from the parchment he was almost finished working on with something like worry crossing his features, though it was hard to tell since Sirius was fuzzy, too.

“Do you honestly think he’s going to be able to--” 

“He’ll get it Sirius.” James forced himself to sound more confident than he felt. The animagus transfiguration was _complicated_ and required a change in the way one thought about oneself. It required a control and discipline that positively escaped Peter, no matter how he tried. 

James put his glasses back on and looked again to where Remus slept, his hands curled into tight fists as he became lost to some dream. “I wish we could ask Remus though. He’s better at explaining things to Peter.”

Sirius shook his head, adamant on this point. “He can’t know.”

“It’s getting worse, Sirius. He was infirmary for nearly a week this time.”

“I know, James.”

“And three days the time before.”

“I know. I know.”

“I’m just saying that Remus would be able to help.”

“He can’t know,” Sirius said with finality and James pushed his hand through his hair, sitting back into his chair. 

This had been an argument between them for months now, how much to tell Remus. Sirius said that he didn’t want to get Remus' hopes up but James suspected that it was more because Sirius wanted it to be a complete surprise—for Remus to be impressed with both their cleverness and their ability. While James was sure about the surprise, he wasn’t as sure that Remus would be impressed or agree with their reasoning. It was sound, though, James was sure of that, or at least that was what he told Peter when Peter asked if there was a chance that Remus might kill them all. 

“Try again with Peter,” Sirius continued on as he finished with Remus’ assignment and slid it back to him. “Or would you rather I do it.”

“Not you. You make him nervous." James looked away when Sirius frowned but he didn’t take it back. It was true, and had been since they were first years. "I'll take him up to the astronomy tower tonight. It's cloudy so there shouldn't be anyone up there. There’s Madame Pince.” 

"C'mon, Remus. Wake up." Sirius shook Remus shoulder and collapsed back into his chair right as the librarian came through the stacks. Remus sat up suddenly, inhaling sharply and blinking at James and Sirius. Madame Pince paused at the end of their table as if waiting for them to cause mass chaos before she moved on.

"I wasn't asleep."

"Not at all." James leaned forward on his elbows and clasped his hands on the top of the scarred table, leaning in to whisper at Remus. "Go on up to bed. We'll wait for Peter."

"I can't. I need to finish this for tomorrow."

"Done." Sirius tapped his finger on the paper and Remus picked it up to look at the neat equations, frowning. "What's wrong? They're right."

"I know. I mean, I'm sure they are. I don't understand it, though. My dad is going to kill me if I get a T in Potions."

“He wouldn’t. He’d probably just give you a hug and tell you try harder next time.”

“Maybe but he really will kill me if I lose my scholarship.” Remus whispered _scholarship_ as if it were a dirty word, blushing again, and glanced past Sirius to the next table. James fought the urge to follow where he looked, knowing he’d see Severus staring at Remus again--or worse, Lily.

"You're not going to fail," Sirius said. "We won’t let you.”

"When he finds out, he’ll write Professor McGonagall to say I need a tutor again.”

“So don’t tell him.”

“I have to. It'll be Severus, you know it will."

"I won't let that happen again. Just rewrite that during breakfast and turn it in tomorrow,” Sirius said. “I'll tutor you this weekend."

"You've both got Quidditch practice."

"Not all weekend. We'll do it Saturday morning."

"You hate waking up early."

"Stop being difficult, Remus," James scolded, grinning to be the one to sound like a prefect. "If he doesn't do it, I will."

"I'll do it. I said I would." Sirius threw a challenging look to both James and Remus, as if he had been dared to tutor Remus and not offered, and James had to bite back a laugh. Sirius saw it though and stood up so quickly that his chair scraped on the floor. "C’mon, Remus. I’ll take you upstairs so you can go to bed."

"I don’t need an escort. Besides, I have patrol tonight with Ben Goran." James looked at Sirius, who gave a little shake of his head and sunk back down into his chair. Remus sighed and covered his face with his hands. "Just tell me where and not what."

"The astronomy tower."

"Right. I'll tell him that I heard some Slytherins were planning something in the greenhouses." Remus stood, gathering his books. "I'll be in at 11."

James and Sirius watched Remus go, though James saw they weren’t the only ones. Both Severus and Lily watched him leave, too, and James wondered again if Remus was as disinterested in Lily as he claimed to be. James bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes when Severus and Lily began gathering their books, parchments, and quills as well. Whatever was going on, James didn’t like it, and since Severus seemed to be in the middle of it all...

“Have you noticed that Snivellus seems awfully interested in Remus lately?”

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked.

“He’s always watching him, following him. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was working up the nerve to invite Remus to tea at Madame Puddifoot’s the next Hogsmeade weekend.” James laughed at his own joke, but Sirius didn’t. In fact, the look on Sirius’ face was absolutely murderous and stopped James cold.

“Right. I have a plan.” Sirius looked back over his shoulder to snarl at Severus again, his wand already in his hand. “Not here though. I don’t fancy having detention unless I actually get to hex Snape’s bollocks off. We should follow them, maybe? Encourage them both to leave Remus alone.”

“Sure, but let me take care of Evans.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

James grinned at Sirius, relieved that there was a spark of humor back in his eyes now, and stuffed his rolls of parchments into his bag. As they followed Snape and Evans from the library, James worried a little, as he always did when Sirius got like that about Remus. It was one thing for Sirius to joke around about murdering his brother for being a better Quidditch player--Sirius wouldn’t even be on the Gryffindor team if his brother wasn’t playing for Slytherin, of that James was sure. This thing with Remus, though, James didn’t understand. As they creeped around a corner, their wands raised in tandem, James decided it didn’t matter. He trusted Sirius as his brother and he would trust Sirius to protect Remus. When the first hex flew, James thought again about how his life was nearly perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

They’d only just returned to the Gryffindor Common Room when Remus received the message that Professor McGonagall wanted to see him in her office. James and Sirius looked at each other nervously, and Peter at his hands. They’d played a fantastic prank on Severus two nights before when Remus had been on patrol, and had been resting a little too easily on the idea that they hadn’t been caught. That Remus was the only one allowed out after curfew and so could possibly be blamed once Severus could speak again--and really, it had been a perfect plan--had occurred to them, or at least to James, but the risk had seemed worth it.

“It could just be about the full,” James whispered to Sirius as they watched Remus stiffly climb through the portrait. Remus had another three hours at least before he had to be in the infirmary, and the fact that Professor McGonagall had never before called him down to her office the night of the full made worry and guilt crawl across Sirius’ face, and Peter found the sight amazing.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Sirius answered, but he looked unsure of himself--another elusive emotion for Sirius, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing it pass over Sirius’ face now just a little.

“I think I overheard Amerson say that they knew it was Remus who hexed Snape,” Peter said, nearly clapping his hand over his mouth because he hadn't really meant to say it out loud.

“You think?”

“It was noisy between classes.” Peter hadn’t heard anything of the sort, actually, but he reasoned it didn’t hurt Sirius Black a bit to think that maybe he’d been in the wrong about something every once in a while, and opportunities to point that out didn’t come up all that often. Never, actually, which was truly annoying. “He’d have gone to Slughorn, I’m sure. Remus’ll have detention for a month at least.”

“Right,” James said as he took off his glasses to clean the lenses on his shirttail. The prank had actually been James’ idea to begin with, but it hadn’t taken anything at all to convince Sirius to join in. They’d been at war for weeks, and Peter had no idea what had set it off. He’d got caught out twice so far; once with a pumpkin juice tainted with myrtleweed, which had made his head spin for hours, and another time with a jelly legs jinx meant for Sirius. Remus had uttered the counterjinx before anyone had seen Peter stagger about, and Peter thought that maybe he should feel bad for using Remus like this just for the chance to watch Sirius gnaw on his lip and stare at James for a solution.

"Right," James repeated, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. He clasped his hands together and nodded towards the portrait. "We'll go beneath the cloak, and if Remus gets more than a week's detention, we'll be out with it. He won't mind a week. McGonagall always goes easy on him anyway."

Peter volunteered to grab the cloak from James' trunk and took his time coming back down the stairs. It was harder to fit the three of them and impossible with four, and Peter liked having it all to himself sometimes. Hidden, he could hear the things he wanted to hear, the things people didn't want him to know. Coming down the stairs, he saw James talk in hurried, low tones to Sirius but stopped when he got closer, as if they knew he was there.

"Okay," James said. "Follow Sirius through the portrait, Peter. Remus will already be in McGonagall's office. You didn't do anything, so just stay hidden. Sirius and I will take care of it."

The halls leading to Professor McGonagall's office were quiet and deserted. Peter moved carefully between James and Sirius, all of them trying to make sure the cloak still covered their feet as they moved. They waited in the doorway of a disused classroom for what seemed like hours, though the sun shone on through the window at the end of the hall, so Peter knew it must have only been minutes. He was beginning to wonder why he'd come at all when the door to the office finally opened and Remus stepped out. Professor McGonagall followed him, still talking, though they couldn't hear anything until she stepped out into the hall.

"You'll have to pack your things tonight, Remus. You'll leave tomorrow, as soon as you're well enough to travel."

Peter felt Sirius give a start, and James grabbed Sirius’ shoulder to keep him from giving them away. Remus only nodded, his hands clasped together in front of him. The only other sign he gave that he was upset that Peter could see was the muscle in his jaw working hard against the argument Peter could only assume Remus wanted to give but couldn't. Expelled. The Marauders were often threatened with expulsion, but Peter couldn't believe that it was actually happening to any of them. It was just _youthful exuberance_ , at least that was what Professor Dumbledore had called it. Snape hadn't even really been hurt, at least not too badly. Madame Pomfrey had said he wouldn't even scar.

"I can come up with you, if you'd like," Professor McGonagall continued on. "To help you explain to the other boys."

"No, please. I'll tell them myself."

The hall echoed with the sound of Remus' shoes as the exposed nail in the heel clicked on the floor when he took a quick step back. Peter had spent the better part of the month teasing him about that and he felt bad now. He could only think about how Remus wouldn't be there to help him pass his O.W.L.s, or to make Sirius stop teasing him.

"I am truly sorry, Remus. Professor Dumbledore is on his way back from London now. He'd like a word with you before you go down to the shack tonight."

Remus nodded again and took another step back. "Yes, ma'am. May I go back to my room, please?"

"Of course." Professor McGonagall watched him for a moment more before she suddenly turned away and retreated back inside her office. When her door closed, Remus stumbled back to sag against the wall and covered his face with his hands. Sirius shrugged off James' hand and slipped from beneath the cloak, running down the hall. He slid to a stop in front of Remus, his hands hovering over Remus' shoulders, as if he was afraid to touch him.

"Are you expelled just for that prank? I'll tell her it was me."

"Not expelled."

"Then what's wrong? Why do you have to leave? Did someone find out about--"

"No. It's my dad. They took him to the hospital but there was nothing they could do." Remus bent deep at his waist as if he was in pain and Peter closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at it, but he could still hear Remus. Hear his great, gasping breaths rend the air--crying. Remus was crying. He had never cried before, not even once. "What am I going to do, Sirius?"

Sirius pulled Remus into his arms and Remus went, crying against his shoulder. James stood with Peter beneath the cloak where it was suddenly hot and still before he shrugged it off, too, and went to where Sirius and Remus stood clinging to each other. James put his hand on Remus' shoulder and Sirius looked to James, his mouth a grim line.

Peter stayed where he was, hidden beneath the cloak, twisting his hands as if washing without water. He’d never known anyone who’d had a parent die before, not while they’d been at school. Peter didn’t know what to say or do. When James finally began to steer Sirius and Remus back down the hall back toward Gryffindor Tower, Peter followed silently behind until they were safe in their room and he could come out, while Sirius and James hovered around Remus and didn’t take notice of Peter at all. He left the cloak on James’ bed and crawled up onto his own, watching as Remus began to pack. His face was red and blotchy, and his movements stiff and awkward as the time drew nearer to his transformation, and Peter had to hold back from saying anything at all.

After a while, Sirius began to ask “Was it...,” leaving the words _Death Eaters_ hanging in the air, and Peter sat up to hear his answer. That hadn’t occurred to him before, that Mr. Lupin’s death could have been caused by something so horrible, but he figured it made sense. His brother had told him that it would be the Muggle-born and the half-breeds who would be _the first to go_ , and Peter understood what that meant now. Remus was a half-breed, though Peter was careful never to say so out loud, knowing that James wouldn’t like it--he and Sirius had hexed people for saying it, even when it wasn’t directed at Remus. Remus shook his head and carried on packing his bag.

"No,” Remus finally answered. “A heart attack."   

"I don't understand," James said.   

"I thought that was just something that happens to Muggles," Peter said. He’d heard of them before because a man in the pub his mum worked in had dropped dead, she’d said, right there before she could set his dinner down. A heart attack, she said, and he remembered, trying for years to find out how a heart could attack someone until his brother finally told him it was just an illness--a Muggle illness.

“My dad doesn’t use magic. Didn’t.” Remus corrected himself then pressed his fingertips into his forehead. “I have his wand.”   

“I didn’t know you could use someone else’s wand.”

“Leave him alone, Peter.”  

“It’s okay, Sirius. He wouldn’t have used it anyway. He promised my mum,” Remus said, but he looked like he was choking on the last words. “No magic--he promised.”

“C’mon Peter,” James said and came to sit on Peter’s bed with a chess set. Peter wanted to tell Sirius that it wasn’t fair, that he wasn’t the only person who was friends was Remus, but he said nothing. Instead he tried to focus on playing the game with James, though James was playing very poorly and Peter had to point out each time that it was his go. Sirius walked around the room, moody and restless until he finally stopped his pacing to stand very close to Remus.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Peter heard Sirius whisper, but Remus shook his head.

“You’ve class. Professor McGonagall won’t allow it.”

“Don’t have to tell her. I could figure it out.”

“She’ll be there at the--” Remus stopped and swallowed hard. “She’ll notice. Besides, I think I’ll be gone for a while.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re coming back though, right?”

“I don’t know, Sirius.”

James had stopped playing altogether and sat holding his queen in the palm of his hand, his eyes on where Remus and Sirius stood. As they watched, Sirius pushed Remus to sit on the bed and began to finish packing Remus’ bag himself. After a few minutes, Remus laid down and curled himself around his pillow. When Sirius was finished, Sirius sat next to him, his hand on Remus’ shoulder until it was time for Remus to go to the infirmary. Sirius left with him, and didn’t return until well after dinner, and after Peter had been in bed for a while.

James had had their map spread out on his bed, worried, Peter thought, that maybe Sirius would try to go to the Shrieking Shack, though Peter didn’t think so. He knew that Sirius sometimes hid in a cupboard near the owlery, and that Remus had purposely left it off the map. He wondered if James knew that, and thought maybe not.  
    
Peter turned in his bed to watch as Sirius went to Remus' bag again. James joined him there, sitting on the edge of Remus' bed. They didn't talk as Sirius opened Remus’ bag and placed inside it a warm sweater that belonged to Sirius, and a book of poetry by someone called A. E. Housman--a gift from Sirius’ uncle that Sirius pretended he never read. Peter knew he had, though, and even knew which poem he read the most, because the pages automatically opened to it. He thought it was strange that Sirius was giving it to Remus, because if his own mum had died, Peter wouldn’t have wanted a book of stupid Muggle poetry. James must have thought so, too, because he opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Sirius gave him a challenging look, daring him, it seemed, to speak at all. James was quiet until Sirius closed the bag again.

“He’ll come back,” James said, very quietly.

“I know.”

**November 21, 1975 Friday**

    
Sirius had never been to a funeral before, and certainly not a Muggle funeral. His mother said that funerals and weddings were no places for children, and he'd never much cared before. This was different, and Sirius had nothing to prepare him for what would happen--for the sadness he witnessed in Remus and his mum. Remus had stood silently next to his mother looking pale and wan, too soon after the full, not seeing anything it seemed. Sirius, wearing his school uniform, stood with Professor McGonagall and kept his eyes on Professor Dumbledore in his Muggle suit, because it was easier than looking at Remus.

Afterward, Professor Dumbledore had solemnly shaken Remus’ hand and gone back to Hogwarts while Sirius and Professor McGonagall had walked to Remus’ house for the wake. It was a small, neat, and painfully clean farmhouse, filled with people who had come to mourn Mr. Lupin. Sirius moved around the edges, looking for Remus but finding his mum first, sitting in the kitchen surrounded by three women who looked just like her--all pale watery eyes and blonde hair--who blinked at him as if he were some kind of wild animal. It was because he was a Wizard, he was sure they must have known, and he backed out of the room and fled up a flight of stairs. At the top, he stood still, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered if they looked at Remus like that, too. He wondered if they really knew.

Sirius eased down the hall, very softly calling Remus’ name until he came to a door that was nearly pushed shut. He peaked inside and saw Remus sitting on his bed, now wearing Sirius’ bright red Gryffindor jumper and his hands clasped between his knees, and pushed the door open.

“Are you okay?” Sirius whispered.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I went to see Professor Dumbledore. He said I could come. I didn’t tell James, but he would have come, too.”

“It’s okay.”

Sirius pushed the door open more and walked inside the room. Remus had gone back to staring at his hands and Sirius wasn’t sure what else to say. He paced around the room restlessly, touching everything and staring for a long time at the things that covered the top of Remus’ desk--rocks and shells that Remus must have found interesting, an eagle’s feather, an old pieced-together map. There were pictures, too, of Remus with his dad, with James and Peter, with Sirius. The one with Sirius moved: fourth year Sirius forever with his arms around Remus, tickling him as Remus laughed and squirmed to get away. On the windowsill there was a line of tiny toys, and Sirius picked one up, thinking it was a centaur until he looked at it more closely and realized that it was a Muggle toy--a knight on a horse made from tin. He brought it over to where Remus sat on his bed, looking pale and drawn, and Sirius sat next to him, their shoulders bumping as Sirius turned the toy over in his hand.

“McGonagall said we would have to leave soon.” Remus nodded but still said nothing. "I’ll send you loads of owls.”

Remus nodded again and Sirius didn’t say anything else, just studied the toy in his hand until he felt Remus sag against him a bit and began to play with the fringe on Sirius’ scarf. Sirius put his arm around Remus’ shoulder then and pulled him close. They sat there in silence while the sun set, lengthening the shadows in the room. When it was finally dark and all they could hear was the sound of voices as they called goodbyes as the door opened and shut, Remus turned his face up to Sirius and Sirius pressed his lips against Remus’ forehead. He had a sudden, distant memory of someone doing that once for him when he had been sick--one in his series of nannies, he supposed, though when he closed his eyes he could remember how she smelled (like honey and lavender) and how she’d felt to him (safe) if not her face or her name. He thought maybe that’s how it felt to Remus, too, because he reached up to cling to Sirius’ coat, his eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Sirius whispered.

“I can’t believe he’s gone. I don’t know what to do.” Remus opened his eyes and this close they were wide and glassy, and Sirius wished that he’d brought James. James would know what to do, he thought, how to make this better. It was that desire, to make things right and to offer a comfort that he was unfamiliar giving, that let Sirius slide his gaze down to Remus’ lips and lean forward. He could feel Remus’ breath quicken and his hands tighten into fists on Sirius’ coat, tugging him closer. It was only the sounds of shoes on the stairs that startled them both, and Sirius jumped to his feet and turned on the lamp next to the bed. His battered book of poetry sat next to a glass of water, a slip of paper peeking out from the pages.

“Sirius, I’m afraid it’s time for us to go,” Professor McGonagall said as she came into the room. 

Sirius looked down to where Remus sat as he had when Sirius had first found him, staring again at his clasped hands. Two spots of pink burned on his pale cheeks, and Sirius couldn’t stop himself from reaching his hand out to him. Remus stood up and took Sirius’s hand, his cold fingers curling around Sirius’.

“I’m so very sorry, Remus,” Professor McGonagall said and Remus nodded his head, still holding tightly onto Sirius’ hand as if he’d like to keep him there, and Sirius wanted very much to stay.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered and then said it again, forcing his voice louder. Sirius turned and hugged Remus tight, and Remus buried his face into Sirius’ neck. They stayed like that until Professor McGonagall touched Sirius’ shoulder and he stepped back, putting his hand on her elbow. Remus looked up at him, his eyes red in his pale face, and then there was the sensation of spinning very fast before they landed in Hogsmeade, Sirius sprawling face first into the snow.

Sirius stayed down for a minute, not quite sure he wasn’t going to throw up while he registered the loss from Remus’ warm room, of Remus himself. Still in his hand, he found the tin knight and he held it up to look at it before he climbed to his feet.

On the way back to Hogwarts, Sirius silently trudged beside Professor McGonagall, his thoughts whirling enough to leave him with a headache pressing against his temples. It wasn’t until they were on the steps to the castle, when Professor McGonagall stopped him with a hand to arm, that he even realized how far they’d walked or how cold it was outside or even that Professor McGonagall was talking to him.

“It will be very hard for Remus when he comes back,” she was saying, her dark eyes boring into his own. 

“But he is coming back.”

“Of course. His father would have wanted it that way.”

“His mother didn’t want him to come at all. I thought maybe now--”

“Professor Dumbledore has spoken with her.” 

Sirius nodded, relieved, but he wasn’t sure what else to say because _thank you_ seemed inappropriate on the day of Remus’ father’s funeral. He was saved from figuring it out when Professor McGonagall continued on.

“Mr. Black, you’ve always shown Remus great loyalty. I think it’s one of your best qualities.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“I thought that position was reserved for Mr. Potter.”

There was something in the way she held her mouth, something that suggested a smile, or rather a great kindness inside that Sirius had never known she possessed. “James is my brother,” he explained. “My real brother.”

“I see.” She contemplated him for a moment, drawing herself up to her full height, and Sirius felt like he did when he was eleven and received his first detention from her. It had felt like a solemn occasion then, too. He stood up straight, able now to meet her in the eyes, and waited for what she had to say. “What you did today was very kind. I’m glad Remus has a friend like you, Sirius, and I’m sure his father felt the same way. Life has not always been kind to the Lupins.”

“It’s not their fault.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline and her hand tightened on his arm. “I’m sorry?”

“What happened to Remus. It’s not their fault. Remus said that his dad always believed it was his fault that he was bitten, but it wasn’t.”

“So, you know--”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Since first year.”

“Peter and James as well?” Sirius nodded. “And you never told.”

Sirius startled again, drawing his arm away from Professor McGonagall. “We would never tell.”

“Then you know he has to be protected, Sirius. Especially now. Do I have your word?”

Sirius nodded again but said nothing else and Professor McGonagall turned on her heels and led them inside the castle. Once free, he took the stairs two by two all the way up to the owlery and crawled into the tiny cupboard beneath the staircase. He found James already inside, wrapped in his thick wool school robes and reading a book by the light of his wand.

“How was it?” James asked as Sirius shut the door behind them.

“Sad.”

“Is Remus okay?”

“He will be.” Sirius curled his hand around the tin knight again, feeling the tiny sword dig into his palm, and lowered his head to his knees. James whispered _Nox_ and they were plunged into darkness. Sirius leaned heavily against James and fought to catch his breath.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes after classes, Sirius liked to escape the confines of the castle and his friends, and tear across the snowy fields in his animagus form, his thoughts simplified and his muscles stretched to the limit of their endurance. James would frequently come as well but Peter not at all, barely confident in his ability to transform, much less to romp about, though Sirius was convinced it was because he was frightened of becoming prey to some hawk or sharp-eyed owl. Sirius didn’t mind. He liked to be alone or just with James, to poke through the undergrowth, knowing he could go to Hagrid's cottage to have the brambles pulled from his fur or for a bite. There were caves and paths worn by the centaurs, hidden nests of birds and small animals, and he ached to show them to Remus who also had a love for secret places.

They'd decided tonight, at least he and James had while Peter begged for more time, just another month, but James knew that Sirius had waited long enough--as long as he could. It was past midnight a few days after the last full when they woke Remus up. He sat up in the dark, nothing but James’ wand lighting the room, and leaned heavily against Sirius for a few minutes until he was awake enough to dress silently and follow James, Peter, and Sirius from the room.

They led him to the Forbidden Forest, James producing a blindfold, which he tried to use to cover Remus’ eyes. Remus dodged his attempt and stepped partially behind Sirius, shaking his head.

“Forget it, James. I like where all my body parts are now.”

“It was an accident. Your hair grew back. C’mon.”

“No. I’m too tired for a prank. If that’s why we’ve come out here, then I’m going back up to the castle.”

James sighed heavily, greatly put out, and held the blindfold out to Sirius, who took it and jammed it into his pocket.

“It’s not a prank, Lupin. It’s a surprise and it took us a bloody long time to figure out.” Sirius turned and held his empty hand out to Remus. “C’mon. James and Peter’ll go first, though mine’s better.”

Remus tipped his head back, his breath puffing into the cold night air, and looked extremely put upon.

“C’mon, Remus. Trust me,” Sirius whispered and Remus immediately gave in, mutely nodded his head and held his hand out. Sirius grabbed his arm, flashing a grin, and turned Remus to face James and Peter. He stepped close, close enough to notice that Remus still smelled like the soap from his shower and the warmth of his bed and pillows and good enough that Sirius leaned in closer. He used his hands to cover Remus’ eyes instead of the cloth blindfold James had given him, and Remus stood still and quiet beneath him.

After a few moments where the only sound was the wind rustling on the leaves that littered the forest floor, Remus whispered, “S’cold.”

“I know. Just another minute.” Sirius stepped closer still, wishing he would could remember a good warming charm but not wanting to ask James, not now. “Ready?”

Remus nodded and Sirius dropped his hands to Remus’ shoulders. In front of them in the clearing was a large stag, its antlers brushing the leaves of a low hanging branch.

“Where are Peter and James?”

“Here,” Sirius said, whispered, and moved his hands down to Remus’ waist, holding onto him even when Remus stepped forward. 

Remus held his hand out as if he would touch the stag’s muzzle but drew back, his mouth opening in surprise when he saw a rat clinging to the stag’s antlers. “I don’t understand.”

James suddenly transformed back, the rat clinging to his head before he reached to set it on the ground. Peter transformed back then, though with whiskers until he squeezed his eyes shut and made them disappear. Both James and Peter were grinning up at Remus and Remus took a step back, into Sirius, and Sirius wrapped his around tight around Remus’ chest to keep him from running.

“I don’t understand,” Remus breathed out again and he clutched at Sirius’ hands.

“We’ve become animagi,” James said. He climbed to his feet and grinned at Remus, clearly pleased with his joke and himself. 

“It’s so you won’t have to be alone during the full anymore,” Sirius said and Remus turned his head to look at Sirius, his mouth opening and closing around the words he couldn’t quite work out. “The wolf wants humans, right? Not animals, everything we read says that. We’ll be able to come with you.”

“It doesn’t hurt when you do it?”

“No,” James said. “The antlers feel weird.”

“The tail took forever to get right,” Peter added. 

“He got better at mending charms. I’ve no idea how many times he split his trousers.” James pulled Peter to his feet and dusted him off. “C’mon, Black. Show him what you become.”

James grabbed Remus’ hand and pulled him away from Sirius as Sirius stepped into the clearing, and started to cover Remus’ eyes like Sirius had. 

Remus shook his head and stepped forward, away from James and closer to Sirius, wanting to see. “Sirius?”

Sirius grinned at him, having wanted Remus’ attention and pleased to have it so fully. He waited as long as he could, memorizing how bright Remus’ eyes were and how his breath quickened and the way he clasped his hands together. Finally, when he couldn’t wait any longer, he transformed into the great, shaggy dog, shaking himself from ears to tail and then prancing from foot to foot in doggy excitement.

“You don’t have to be alone, Remus,” James said, suddenly very close as he wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders and gave him a hug, laughing when Sirius barked at them, going down on his front paws and wagging his tail.

James turned back into the stag then and started chasing Sirius in a wide circle around the clearing, the dog barking. Peter transformed back into the rat with a squeak and ran to climb a sapling, well out of reach of Sirius’ massive paws. Remus laughed out loud and Sirius trotted over to him, put his paws on Remus’ shoulders and knocked him down, snuffling and nuzzling Remus, pushing his great head beneath Remus’ hand to have his ears petted. Remus still laughed as he struggled and failed to sit up and then scratched behind the dog’s ears before the dog turned back into a boy who grinned down at Remus. Remus didn’t move his hands, just cradled Sirius’ head.

“You did this for me,” Remus whispered.

Sirius noticed that Remus’ eye lashes were glittering in the scant light with unshed tears, and he drew his thumb beneath Remus’ eye, over his cheek, the look on his face greedy. “I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered back and stared for another second until the stag nudged him with its antlers.

Sirius flashed another grin, morphed into the dog and nipped at the stag’s flanks until they took another circuit around the clearing--the stag chasing the dog and then the dog chasing the stag, barking merrily, until James turned back into James. He stood there looking quiet and regal for a moment, different somehow, while the dog nosed out a stick and brought it to Remus. Remus took it from him and tossed it, doing it again and again until James shook himself out of his mood. He turned to Remus then, laughing as he cleaned his glasses on his robe. 

“Don’t encourage him, Remus. We’ll be out here all night.”

Remus didn’t say anything but continued tossing the stick until finally it was just Sirius who brought it back, out of breath and still laughing, and Peter climbed down from his hiding place and turned back. If any of them saw the wetness on Remus’ cheeks, they didn’t mention it. Though as they walked quietly back to the castle, the sun just barely beginning to lighten the sky, Sirius walked as close as he could to Remus, letting the backs of their hands brush together until Remus curled his fingers around Sirius’ hand, and Sirius could only think about how this had possibly been the best night of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

“What if he’s already changed?” Peter looked to where James knelt with Sirius at the edge of the forest as they waited for Madame Pomfrey to disappear over the hill on her way back to the castle. He wrung his hands, ignoring the way Sirius narrowed his eyes at him and instead focused on James. This was madness and he wasn’t sure why he let himself be talked into their plans. Raiding the kitchens or the Potions store was one thing, but this was just insane and he wished Remus was there to make them see reason.

“The moon doesn’t rise for nearly an hour yet. Don’t worry so much,” James said, and he was grinning like it was some sort of joke--a great prank, and Peter supposed that to him--to them--it was. "We’ve already explained this.”

“Several times.”

“Shut it, Black. Just stay as Wormtail and--”

“I hate that name,” Peter interrupted.

“Captain Rat, then.”

“Sirius, you’re really not helping.” James pointed his finger at Sirius as if he was scolding him but Peter could tell James was laughing, too. When he turned back to Peter, his eyes were too bright behind his glasses. They definitely thought this was nothing more than some fantastic lark. “Listen, Peter, just stay in form and you can hide if you need to. It’ll be alright.”

“And if you run away again, Potter isn’t going to be able to protect you this time.”

“I didn’t run away.” Peter stopped and cleared his throat, hating how it squeaked lately and hating even more when Sirius, who seemed to have bypassed puberty and all its embarrassments, smirked at him. “I had detention and then I had to go to the infirmary because—“

“Got to see Remus, didn’t you, when he came in the next morning torn to hell because we couldn’t--.”

“Stop it, both of you.” James raised his voice over both of theirs and they stopped arguing. Sirius turned to watch the willow again, biting at his lip. “What happened to Remus wasn’t Peter’s fault, Sirius, and we don’t even know if we’ll make a difference or make it worse.”

“It won’t be worse.” 

"Just stick to the plan.”

“Then let’s go. He says he can’t remember anything once he transforms. I want him to know we came this time.”

Peter bristled at what Sirius said but didn’t say anything back. To be honest, he had got detention on purpose last full and tried again this time and would have if James hadn’t managed to show up in time to get him out of it. James knew he was scared and promised first not to tell Sirius, and second to protect him. Peter was sure James had kept the first part, but he didn’t know how James expected to keep the second against a werewolf. What if the stag wasn’t strong enough? What if werewolves actually had a particular taste for rats? What if the books were right and they should have reported Remus to the Ministry as soon as they found out? Not that he read them, but he was sure they would have talked about how dangerous this was.

“Go on, Peter.”

Peter took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, transforming into the rat. He nosed his way out from beneath the undergrowth and avoided the Whomping Willow’s branches to press the knot to stop their waving. 

It was easier as a rat--to be a rat, Peter thought. He hadn’t told anyone that he’d actually accomplished it way before Sirius and James found out he could do it, and had spent weeks learning how to control it. In the dark and with the rat’s blurry vision, Peter could only just make out James with Sirius running at his side, already transformed into the dog--Padfoot, he reminded himself, because Sirius picked out his own name when James insisted they needed them. The dog sniffed at the rat and tried to lick him before James pushed him forward and then slid into the secret passage behind Padfoot. Peter set the branches back to waving and scurried into the secret passage, too, in time to see Padfoot disappearing down the tunnel at a full run. 

James stood waiting for him and Wormtail sniffed the air, smelling nothing but fat worms in the dirt, dog, and James, so transformed back. They walked quickly but in silence, James lighting the way with his wand. They’d come this way a couple of times over the last couple of months though only the first time with Remus, who hated it and refused to come back. Prongs and Padfoot had marked the tunnel and the Shrieking Shack so that the wolf would grow used to their scents but Peter hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, believing that James and Sirius would eventually move on to another scheme and that it would never go this far. Of course, he’d thought that it would end once they figured out how to become Animagus. He knew he should have known better.

“This is a really bad idea,” Peter whispered.

“It’s brilliant.”

“What if—“

“There’s no what if, Peter. Madame Pomfrey said he could die. We’ve got to do something to help him.”

“That was in second year.”

“So?”

“So, maybe she didn’t know, is what I’m saying. He’ll be fine and we’re risking our lives for nothing so that Sirius--” Peter didn’t say what he wanted to say, that this was just their excuse to learn forbidden magic. He’d even admit that it was really cool to be able to do something that no one else could--especially because Remus couldn’t do it and so it was something he could share just with James and Sirius--but what good was being an Animagus going to do them if they were dead.

“Look, I know you’re scared—“

“You’re not?”

“No," James lied and then grinned down at Peter. "A little, don’t tell Sirius. It doesn’t matter though, Remus won’t hurt us.”

“It’s not Remus though, right? He said that. It’s not him. The monster takes over and he can’t remember what he does.”

James stopped them with a hand to Peter’s shoulder and turned to face Peter. They were near now, Peter noticed. He could see a light coming from the trapdoor of the shack, from Sirius’ wand or Remus’, he wasn’t sure. James pushed his glasses higher up his nose and gave Peter a shake to get his attention. 

“We don’t use that word. You know that.” 

“It’s what he said.”

“Well then, don’t let Sirius hear you say it. You know how he gets.”

“I do, and that’s the other thing. He’s gotten weird about Remus.”

“What do you mean, weird?”

Peter looked back down the tunnel--back the way they’d come, back toward safety, and shook his head. He knew he'd already said too much but there was no backing out of it. The worse thing was that some of what he knew, he’d learned as Wormtail, and he couldn’t tell that to James. He just shrugged instead, a half-hearted lift of his shoulders to show that he really wished he’d said nothing at all. "I don’t know.”

“C’mon. What do you mean?”

“It’s like ever since we’ve come back from holidays, Sirius has been, I don’t know, angrier.”

“They tried to recruit him as a Death Eater. His cousin, Bellatrix is one, and his dad thinks it’s a good idea. Make a man of him. Do you know what that means?”

“Kind of.”

“They said things to him, about Remus and others here at Hogwarts. I mean, it’s his family, right, and the things that they expect of him scare him.”

“More than having a werewolf as a friend?”

“Yeah. More than that. He’ll be all right though.”

James turned away and started to walk again toward the shack, toward where Sirius and Remus were waiting for them. Peter watched him for a moment, then looked back down the tunnel where they’d come from, wanting to go back but unwilling to leave. He couldn’t run away, not unless James came with him. 

“Wait up,” he called, having to jog a little to catch up with James’ long strides. “It started before the holidays. I mean, he’s always been angry, like, but this thing started way before that.”

“What thing?”

“Remus and Sirius.”

James stopped short and Peter had to backtrack to face him again. When he did, James lifted his wand so that it glinted off his glasses, nearly blinding Peter as the tip glowed brighter. “Whatever you think is going on, it’s not.”

“But—“

“I know what you’re trying to say, Peter, and just don’t. It doesn’t matter. Remus needs us, _all_ of us. Whatever else you think is happening doesn’t matter.”

They heard Sirius call for James but James didn't move, only just kept staring at Peter.

“I’m serious. We’re not going to talk about this now or ever, and if you bring it up again, it’s not just Sirius you’ll have to worry about. Do you understand?” Peter stared at James for a long moment before he dropped his eyes to his feet and nodded because there was nothing else to be done for it. “Good. Let’s go.”

Peter followed behind James silently, more afraid now than he had been of Remus turning into a werewolf. He’d thought--well, he wasn’t exactly sure what he thought, except he knew there was something going on between Remus and Sirius. He hadn’t even thought it was like what the Slytherins said once when Peter had followed them behind the greenhouses and he’d heard Regulus call Sirius a shirtlifter and Remus his girlfriend. Peter knew it wasn’t true because he’d seen Sirius with girls, but there was still something _different_ , and he thought maybe James knew it, too, no matter what he said. 

“Where have you been? It’s nearly time.” Sirius snapped at James when he came through the trapdoor.

James didn’t answer but knelt down to offer Peter a hand up. When Peter pulled himself into the room, he saw that Remus was leaning against the wall, wrapped in Sirius’ cloak and tapping a pattern on his thigh with hands that shook. The air was cold and still, the smell musty though Peter knew when he transformed it would have the sharp scent of dog and stag and blood. He hated the smell of the blood, hated the funny things that it did to his rat brain.

“You can still escape,” Remus hissed and when Peter looked up, he knew Remus was speaking to him, and for a second he was tempted to scurry back through the trapdoor and down the tunnel. 

“It’s okay, Remus,” James said.

“We’re not leaving.” Sirius moved to stand in front of Remus, blocking his view of Peter.  
Remus pushed off from the wall and paced the length of the room until he came back to Sirius and whispered into his ear, not meaning for Peter to hear at all. “He’s afraid. I can smell it.”

“It’s just because it’s the first time. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“There’s still time.”

“We’re not leaving.”

Remus went back to pacing the room, his hands jammed deep into his pockets in an attempt to calm or hide their shaking, and Sirius followed him with his eyes. James stood in the middle of the room and watched them both, his hands on his hips. Peter wanted to ask if he could transform then, if he could hide--James had said he could hide. After Remus made another circuit through the open rooms, Sirius grabbed his arm and pushed him to lean against the wall again. He dug a pack of cigarettes and a Muggle lighter from the pocket of the robe Remus wore and tapped one out. Sirius let it hang from his lips like some kind of American movie star and lit it, inhaled, and held it out to Remus.

“My dad smoked,” Remus said and flashed a smile at Sirius that was gone as quick as it had come. “He told me not to tell mum. She hated the smell. I told you that already.”

“My mum says it’s common,” Sirius said as Remus leaned in and inhaled.

“The worst offense,” Remus coughed out, and then leaned in to take another puff.

“Right up there with being a blood traitor.”

“You can’t watch. When--when it happens.”

“We’ll be transformed.”

“But you said you can still tell it’s you. That you still know yourself and me. I don’t want you to see it.”

“We won’t watch,” James said.

“You’ll hear.”

“Stop worrying about it,” Sirius said but he looked to James, who was watching them still, and Peter hid himself the best he could behind James.

“It’s almost time, James,” Remus whispered though he didn’t look away from Sirius.

“Right. Peter and I will transform and wait in here. Sirius—“

“I know.”

Peter didn’t wait to hear what Sirius was doing. It hadn’t been part of the plan whatever it was, but then he wasn’t surprised and he found that he didn’t care as he transformed into the rat and scurried into the wall. He could hear Sirius and Remus leave James as he, too, transformed, his antlers only just clearing the ceiling. Moving forward, Peter found a crack where he could watch for when it was safe, though everything was blurry again.

Remus undressed with shaking fingers and handed Sirius his clothes to put away safe. He sat naked on the floor, his back against the bed, his arms around his legs, and shivered. Sirius transformed into Padfoot and inched toward him on his belly, whining, and Remus put his hand on Padfoot’s head, shushing him and saying it would be okay. 

Then there was a moment when things seemed to change, when everything and everyone in the world seemed to hold their breath and just stop. Wormtail sat up on his hind quarters and watched carefully, rubbing his front paws together. In that moment, Peter finally understood what Remus had meant when he said he could smell Peter’s fear. Peter could now smell Remus’ coming off him in waves, and it made Wormtail’s whiskers quiver. He was sure it would happen now and he didn’t feel like running. He wanted to watch. He wanted to see.

Remus whispered for James and Prongs stepped forward, corralling the dog with his antlers, drawing him back into the main room. Then the transformation started, the world exhaled, and Remus howled in pain and Padfoot with him until it was over and they were alone with the wolf.

***

It was late afternoon when James left Peter asleep in their room and ran up to the infirmary to see Remus. They were all exhausted but couldn’t miss classes without raising suspicions that they’d been up to something. As it was, Sirius, still keyed up from the night before, got himself into a bit of trouble during lunch and was paying for it. Still, James thought it had been worth it, and now, sitting at Remus’ side as Remus fought against the tide of whatever potion that Madame Pomfrey had given him to sleep, he knew it had been.

“James?” 

“Yeah.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Sirius?”

“Detention. He got into a fight with Regulus. Peter’s asleep.”

Remus coughed and pushed himself to sit up, rubbing his fists into his eyes. His voice was still raw but even if they couldn’t stop the pain, they’d been able to keep the wolf from tearing at Remus as the moon began to set. 

“It worked?” He asked, looking up at James.

“Yeah. Do you feel okay?”

“Poppy said I could go when Sirius came to check on me.” Remus shook his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. James moved from the chair to sit next to him, supporting him a bit though Remus just looked tired. “She couldn’t believe it when she saw me--just some bruises. I could have gone to classes today but she wouldn’t let me.”

“You and Padfoot played like puppies. It was ridiculous."

“The wolf played?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t too sure about the stag, though, and Peter stayed hidden.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone?”

“No.”

Remus grinned and huffed out a quiet laugh before he braced his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe Sirius got detention.”

“Idiot,” James agreed, but he couldn’t keep the affection out of his voice as he rubbed his hand gently over Remus’ head. “C’mon. Get dressed and we’ll go see if McGonagall will let him out early."

Even later that night, as Peter was trouncing Remus in chess and Sirius was dozing on the couch behind where they were sitting on the floor in front of the fire, James thought again about how lucky they had been the night before and about what Peter had said. If he wanted to be honest with himself, his thoughts had returned to that conversation more times that day than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t going to let anyone talk about Sirius and Remus like that, even if it was Peter, but he wondered, too. Mostly he wondered if Sirius was aware of it, of the way Remus looked at him sometimes like he was the only person in the room (like how he wished Lily would look at him) and how Sirius seemed to _need_ to be the one who took care of Remus. He wondered what would happen when Sirius figured it out. If he figured it out. Whatever _it_ was.

James shook his head and look beyond the other boys to where Lily sat by herself with a book. She looked up just then and blushed when she caught him staring, but he didn’t look away. She was another mystery in his life, but an infinitely more pleasant one. He sat for a long time, until he had to be warned twice to head up to bed, thinking about how he could ask her out and actually have her say yes. By the time he got up to their room, the other boys were asleep, their curtains pulled tight, and James went to bed with nothing but thoughts of Lily to carry him off to his dreams.


	6. Late April 1976

Minerva McGonagall was, above all other things, a patient woman who loved her job, though for the last five years she’d had to remind herself of that nearly every day. She couldn’t understand how four underaged wizards could cause so much mayhem wherever they went, and as Head of the Gryffindor House, she'd had many spirited students, and had even given her own Head of House a run for his galleons in her day. There was nothing in her entire career or education that had prepared her for the combination of Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew. 

Even having known Harold Potter, himself, when he was team captain the year she was made seeker, had done little to predict the limits that his son and his friends tested on a daily basis. She had looked up to Harold, and Muriel, who later became his first wife. Harold had been a real leader amongst his peers, and Minerva could see that in James as well, though his energies seemed to be directed more toward chaos. She felt that this, his fifth year career consultation, was an opportunity to steer him toward more productive outlets. His career choice, Auror, hadn’t been a surprise, and despite his ability to attract trouble to himself at every turn, Minerva had agreed, though she’d been rather prepared to offer some practical advice had he decided he wanted to be a professional Quidditch player. Instead, she’d outlined the classes he would need to take, the grades he would have to earn, and delivered a nearly hour long lecture on his behavior.

The meeting had gone well, and she’d decided that there was more of his father’s spirit in him than she’d begun to believe. She’d enjoyed talking with him, especially when it didn’t end with assigning days of detention, and had told him as much. She was glad she had when she reflected back on the week come Friday night, and realized that of her four Marauders, as they called themselves, James had been the easy one.

Immediately after speaking with James, Peter Pettigrew had been her next appointment. Minerva prided herself in being able to find the good in all her students, but she was stretched thin with Peter. There was something sycophantic about the way Peter ran after James and Sirius that disturbed her, though she’d seen it before over the years. He had no talent to speak of, no wit or intelligence. She had no doubt that he’d come as far as he had because of his friends, particularly Remus’ patience in tutoring him. Still, he was a Gryffindor, and sometimes that had to be enough to earn her support and loyalty, though she couldn’t quite keep the shock out of her voice when he stuttered out his intended career path.

"Auror, Mr. Pettigrew?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Yes, well." She paused, struggling for something--anything--to say that wouldn't crush his spirit. "It's certainly an admirable goal, but perhaps you've considered other options as well?"

"James said--"

"We are not talking about Mr. Potter. This is about you, and to even be considered for a traineeship with the Auror's program you'll need at least five N.E.W.T.'s." Minerva shuffled through the papers in Peter's file, feeling mildly guilty at her tone. "While you do reasonably well in my class, Mr. Pettigrew, you've barely managed Acceptable in Potions. In fact, the only other class you seem to excel in is Divination. You'll have to do much better if you expect be accepted into N.E.W.T level courses."

"James said--"

"Mr. Pettigrew, surely you have interests of your own, ideas for a career that would be better suited to who you are." Peter sat quite still and did nothing more than blink at Minerva, clearly terrified. "Do you have any activities outside of classes that you enjoy, maybe, that would point us in a direction?"

"I'm good at chess."

Peter stared at his hands for a long time while he searched for another answer and Minerva studied him. She remembered his brother had been a handsome lad--tall and stocky with blond hair and blue eyes. Peter seemed a watered down version, pasty where his brother had been quite fit, milky blue eyes where his brother's had been striking. Of course, his brother had had the arrogance of teenage boys that seemed mostly absent in Peter, and Minerva couldn’t help but think that an improvement, though there was none of the charm of James Potter or the intelligence that Sirius Black showed.

Minerva mentally shook herself for being unfair to poor Peter who had probably spent his life being unfavorably compared to his brother, and now his friends. While she was human enough to admit that she sometimes had favorites amongst her students, she wouldn't let that affect how she did her job, which right at that moment meant encouraging Peter into some field where he might achieve some measure of happiness and success.

"Okay, chess is good," she said when his silence continued. "It's a beginning. Anything else?"

"I like Quidditch."

"Perhaps, Peter, you’d like another chance to review the information about the careers available and see if there isn’t something there that suits you, and we could meet again?"

"Again?"

Minerva stood up and pressed a handful of leaflets into Peter’s hands. " _Again_ , Mr. Pettigrew, and while I know Mr. Potter probably made being an Auror sound like quite the adventure, I assure you that it’s a tremendous amount of work and a great deal of responsibility for very little pay. It is not a decision to be entered into lightly."

"Yes, ma'am," Peter whispered, looking down at the leaflets in his hand, a little lost, it seemed, and Minerva had no doubt that he would again turn to James and his other friends for advice.

"Consider it your homework, Mr. Pettigrew. Read the leaflets and make a decision on your own."

"Yes, ma'am; but James said—"

Minerva pinched her lips together and closed her eyes, remembering that with these particular boys it was sometimes better to count to one hundred before responding.

The next day proved much easier. The fifth year girls were always found to be much more mature at this age than the boys, and the discussions of Ministry positions, healing, and banking were easily sorted. Minerva found this year’s cohort to be a particularly lively, entertaining bunch, who frequently sought her out for advice, and she was fond of them all, especially Lily who was more serious minded than her friends though with a certain vivaciousness that made her particularly enjoyable to speak with. 

Minerva was especially grateful toward them, as she wrote in her journal later, because Friday proved to be more difficult than she had expected. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had the last two consultations of the year, and she had specifically set Remus as last so that she could spend more time with him. Unfortunately, neither appointment proved easy.

Sirius came first, during what would have been his Potions lecture, and slouched down in the chair across from her, looking for all the world that he expected detention at the very least. His long black hair was caught back at his neck and she could still see the bruise that was fading on his jaw from some fight or mischief that she wasn’t even going to question. It gave him a handsome, roguish appearance that she knew James spent a lot of time attempting to mimic, and she couldn’t help her smile. She knew that even the seventh year girls already considered Sirius a heart throb, even if he hadn’t quite caught up with them, and she often told Albus that they should be grateful that he hadn't seemed to discover girls yet. Within a year, she suspected, there would be trouble enough on that end. For now, though, he’d merely avoided her eyes and mumbled through his answers. 

"Have you thought of no career that might suit you?"

"My father forbade it, any discussions about it, because he means for me to take over his position on the Ministerial Advisement Counsel and as head of the family, when the time comes."

"And is that what you want as well?"

Sirius sat up suddenly and finally met Minerva’s eyes, the shock of being asked his opinion plain on his face before he fought to regain control over himself. She knew very well his father’s plans for him. 

"No, ma’am. My father wouldn’t allow what I wanted."

"Nonsense, Mr. Black. Once you leave Hogwarts, you’ll very much be your own man. Your education will have prepared you for any number of careers and your talents shouldn’t be wasted in any event. Should you choose to pursue any career with as much determination as you devote to getting yourself into trouble with Mr. Potter, I’ve no doubt that you’ll be successful in whatever you chose to do."

Sirius looked back down at his folded hands but Minerva could see his blush paint his cheeks very prettily, and she wondered if he had ever considered a life beyond that offered by his family, a life not defined by his name. She suspected not and felt sorry for him, and for his brother, who may never be given the opportunity to realize the possibilities as she knew how involved Orion had become in Regulus’ education to ensure, as he explained to Albus recently, that the same mistakes weren’t made as had been with Sirius.

Minerva took off her glasses and let them hang from their chain around her neck as she folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward on her desk. "I've often had the honor to witness your capacity for compassion when your friends are presented with challenges; perhaps you would consider healing."

"I just do that stuff because Lupin needs me," Sirius answered. His blush was still in place but he sat up fully now, leaning forward in interest as he did in class when something especially interested him. "I wouldn’t want to do it all the time for anyone else."

"Okay," Minerva said, surprised by his answer and the offhand way he said it, but glad now that he seemed willing to consider other possibilities. "There are many other professions for which you’d be suited. Gringotts has an excellent program to train curse breakers. Surely you've considered this topic before, Sirius."

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, sometimes when I was younger I thought I'd like to be an Auror." Sirius looked up to see if maybe she would laugh at him, she thought, and when she didn’t, he grinned. "I know that's what James said, too, but he's not why I said it."

"I’m very glad to hear that. Tell me what interests you about that particular field."

"I don’t know. It seems exciting, like I'd really be doing something."

"And you like the thought of that? Being a part of something good."

"Yes, ma'am. Is that strange? Because of my family?"

"No. I went to school with your Uncle Alphard and knew him well. He was a good man. I know he thinks well of you."

"Yes, ma'am. He thought it was a good joke that I was sorted into Gryffindor. He suspects that I’ll be blasted from the family tree before I’m thirty. He set up a trust fund for me for if it happens."

Minerva laughed merrily over the thought of Alphard betting on his nephew’s future once Sirius had left much happier than when he’d come in. She’d given him the same lecture she’d given James, and planned his N.E.W.T.s, sending a message to Albus as a warning against what would happen when Orion and Walburga received her letter regarding the career consultations.

Minerva then cleared her desk, leaving only Remus' file on top, and waited for her final consultation of the year, but he never showed. She double checked his appointment time, surprised that he would have forgotten but willing to forgive what was extremely unusual behavior for him, knowing there would likely be an explanation forthcoming. When Minerva entered the Great Hall for lunch, her eyes went immediately to the Gryffindor table and to where Remus sat next to Sirius, picking at his food. 

"Mr. Lupin, may I speak with you for a moment."

As Remus stood, James, Peter, and Sirius stopped their conversation to watch, and though she moved them a few steps away, she knew they continued to listen. She had no doubt that there were no secrets between the four of them. 

"We had an appointment this morning," Minerva said, attempting to be firm though she could clearly see that Remus was miserable. He didn’t meet her eyes but nervously wringed his hands in front of him, thumb to thumb, and twisted his fingers together.

"Yes, ma’am."

"So you didn’t forget?"

"No, ma'am."

"Were you ill?"

"No, ma'am. I didn't want to waste your time." He looked up at her then, the plea in his eyes clear, and she wanted to reach out to him but kept her hand firmly at her side, not wishing to garner him any more attention than she already had.

"I assure you, Mr. Lupin, that I do not consider your future a waste of my time. I have office hours available at two o’clock this afternoon. I’ll expect you then."

"Yes, ma’am," he said, looking back down at his feet.

"You’re not in trouble, Remus," Minerva said more gently. "Go back to your lunch and I’ll see you this afternoon."

Once she was sat at the head table, Minerva kept her eye on the boys, who clearly hadn’t known that Remus had missed his career consultation. It wasn’t long before Remus gathered his books and left, though Sirius followed close behind. Later that afternoon it seemed that they boys were determined that Remus not miss the appointment again, as they all showed up at precisely 2:00, nudging Remus forward and into the office. 

"Now, Mr. Lupin," Minerva said closing the door on James, Sirius and Peter. "A waste of my time?"

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Minerva motioned for Remus to sit as she rounded her desk to take her own chair. She rattled her tin of biscuits at him, and he took one, nibbling on the edge. She waited until he was finished before she opened his folder and folded her hands on top of it.

"I suppose I can guess at what this is about," she began. "Do you think Professor Dumbledore and your father gave no thought as to why you should be educated as a Wizard?"

"No, ma'am. I mean, I know it was important to my father and Professor Dumbledore was very kind to make so many arrangements to allow me to come."

"He didn’t just mean it as a kindness; he believes in you and your abilities, just as your father did and just as I do."

Remus worried a hole in the sleeve of his robe and bit at his lip, his forehead furrowed. She left him in silence to work out whatever it was that he was trying to find the words to say, and was rewarded several minutes later when he finally admitted his concern, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just that with the new anti-werewolf legislation--"

"We have had this discussion before," Minerva said when he bit off the end of his sentence and sat once more staring at his hands. "Now, did you read none of the leaflets about career opportunities?"

"But I don’t have any, do I? Who will hire me? There are so many rules and penalties in place, no Wizard would take the chance."

"Remus, you're a smart lad who does well in his classes, and your father was very proud of you, rightly so. He would not have wanted you to give up so easily, would he."

"No, ma'am. He always said that it didn't matter. That I could do whatever I wanted."

"And did your father ever lie to you?"

"No, ma'am.” Remus finally looked up, a small smile on his lips as he remembered his father.

"And neither have I, and I won’t lie now and say that your path will be easy. I will do everything I can to help you on your way, but you have to be willing to fight for it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and braved a bigger smile.

"And what do your friends have to say about this? I'll admit to being rather surprised that the four of you hadn't taken a pact to all be Aurors."

"No, ma’am. James and Sirius, they’re the brave ones."

"You’re brave, too, Remus," Minerva said as she leaned back in her chair and tipped her head at him. "So you hadn't considered what you want to do with your life."

"No, ma'am."

"Surely there must be something you’ve wanted to do."

Remus sat back as well though he looked away from her for a moment, his eyes distant, and Minerva could almost feel the presence of Remus’ father with them. It was a long time before he answered. "I want to teach. I want to be a teacher, like my dad, and you."

"I think he would have liked that very much, Remus." Minerva swallowed hard, her chest constricting with a sudden welling of emotion that she hadn't expected, hadn't prepared herself for. 

The rest of the consultation went much more smoothly, much more like what she had expected in the beginning. His courses settled for his last two years and a much milder lecture about behavior and detentions, it was again a much happier boy who got up to leave her office. Minerva followed Remus to her office door and couldn’t decide if she was surprised or not to find Sirius sitting on the floor opposite.

"Mr. Black. Did you need to speak with me?"

"No, ma’am. I was just waiting for Lupin."

"Aren’t you supposed to be in class now? Care of Magical Creatures this afternoon, isn’t it?"

"Yes, ma’am." Sirius gave her a smile that Minerva couldn’t help but think would have been extremely effective if she was a 16 year old girl again. "James and I thought--"

"I do not want you to finish that sentence, Mr. Black. Go on, both of you back to class.”

"No detention?"

"Is that a request?"

"No, ma’am," Sirius said as Remus tugged on the sleeve of his robe to get him to follow, and she watched as they retreated down the hall, their voices echoing down the stone corridor before she turned back into her office and closed the door.

"What did she say?"

"The same things you did, except she didn’t punch me."

"I barely touched you."

That evening, when Minerva was alone in her room, her work done for the day and the final letters to the parents about the consultations written, she took a framed picture from its place of honor on her mantle and smiled when the boy of about nine waved at her. He had deep brown eyes, wide and inquisitive, and a crooked smile with a dimple in one cheek. She wasn’t meant to have favorites, no, but she couldn’t help but think of how much like Remus her own son had been, and wonder if he had survived, if he, too, would have been given a chance at an education and a future to fight for. She desperately hoped so.


	7. Late May 1976

Remus had spent the day maneuvering his way across the Gryffindor common room like one of Peter's best chess matches. After a strange conversation with Lily and an even stranger one with James, he'd begged off "adventuring" with the other marauders and had been left alone only after promising it was because he was behind in his homework rather than because he was in pain. The truth was he had lied and he _was_ in pain, but he didn't want to be marched to the infirmary by James and he certainly hadn't wanted Sirius to hover. He just wanted to be left alone, on the good, squishy couch in front of the fireplace, until he could finally feel the heat of the it in his very bones. 

It was the fire, lit by one of the older boys in order to toast bread for a late breakfast and surreptitiously sped along by Remus, which had finally won him the game. Too intense for late May, it had forced all but the most stubborn to retreat outside to escape the heat. Those left were studying for exams in the carrels, which he thought maybe he should be doing, too, but couldn't quite be bothered. He curled up on his side, his charms book a solid presence against his chest but unopened. He desperately wanted the sleep that eluded him more nights than not now that the end of term was nearing but his thoughts wouldn't settle.

The sweater he wore was a shapeless old brown cardigan that had belonged to his dad. It had been repaired countless time, his mother's careful stitches giving it a bit of a patchwork appearance but Remus didn't mind. He'd rescued it from a box headed toward an Oxfam shop, placed there by one of his mother's sisters, he'd known, who thought it best that his mum forget John Lupin altogether. The sweater wasn't the only thing he'd rescued. He had some of his father's favorite books in his trunk and small gadgets of both Muggle and Wizarding provenance. There had also been the stack of letters he'd sent his dad since he'd come to Hogwarts. He'd spent ages organizing them along with the ones his dad had written him. They were almost in chronological order now though it had taken months to be able to do it without the other boys seeing. There was more he had wanted, too, but the aunts had been quick, sometimes tossing things into the fireplace, as if getting rid of _stuff_ would be enough to erase his dad from memory.

They'd whispered about that last, afraid of Remus and the anger he couldn't quite control. Light bulbs and glasses would explode, his mother's Muggle radio flickering with static whenever he was near though his wand--his father's wand--had been locked safely in his school trunk. He had reveled in their fear--of what he was and what his dad had been--and he had curled his lip into a snarl that would have made Sirius proud whenever they'd cross themselves but kept his mouth shut because he'd never quite learned to toe the line between his mum's Catholicism and his dad's atheism. In any event, that mix of anger and confusion was easier than feeling the loss of his father, which hit like white hot waves of guilt and remorse late in the night when there was no one to see him cry. Even months later, when he was tucked between his sheets and dreams that refused to come, he sometimes felt as though he might drown in his grief.

Since he'd come back to school, he'd gotten better with his silencing charms though there was nothing quite like sudden, abnormal quiet to bring Padfoot snuffling to investigate. Remus had taken to using Poppy's sympathy for his condition and his _situation_ to ask for sleeping draughts. Padfoot would still climb into his bed sometimes, and Remus had to admit that he liked stroking his silky ears and pushing his fingers through his thick fur until the potions would take effect and send him to a dreamless sleep. He knew it was Sirius from the toothpaste rather than doggy breath, and that there was a bit more conscious awareness on Sirius' side to make it more than a little weird, but there was enough of a feeling of _a lad and his dog_ to make Remus crave it. The normality of that was comforting--it was a thing that boys did, Muggle boys, boys who didn't go to Wizarding school, who didn't turn into monsters at every full moon, whose fathers didn't die from heart attacks (or broken hearts, as Sirius persisted in saying though it always left Remus resisting to correct with _no, that's me_ ).

Remus shifted on the couch and drew his sleeve covered hands over his face as he swallowed back those thoughts, his face burning from more than the heat of the fire. It was that need to be "normal" that had led to the events of that morning, when he'd agreed to go out with Lily for no other reason than she had asked. The words were out of his mouth before he remembered what an Awful, No Good Idea it was, at least not with Lily and certainly not within earshot of James, whose face had twisted into such a look of shock that Remus had wanted to call it the best prank he'd ever thought of, but it had been too late for that. James had immediately shut down all the talk of _come with, Remus_ and accepted Remus' excuses for what they were before he led the other boys out of the dorm.

It was a drip drip drip on his forehead that woke him from his half-sleep later that afternoon, and he opened his eyes to a very wet James, whose face was pressed close to his. A steady stream of water poured from his hair and splashed from the end of his nose, his glasses steaming in the heat of the fire, but they both pretended not to notice.

"Resting for your _date_?"

"It's not a _date_ , James," Remus said irritably as he tried to push James away with a hand to his chest.

"What's not a date?" Sirius stood near the fire, shifting from foot-to-foot, very wet as well and clearly itching to turn into Padfoot to shake himself off.

"Remus asked Lily to go out with him." 

"I didn't," Remus said quickly, embarrassed when his voice pitched a little high. Sirius huffed, his hands going to his hips, suddenly quite still though he didn't look at either James or Remus. "She asked me, and it's not _going out_ , not like that."

"She could have asked me."

"She doesn't like you, James." He realized too late (once again) that it was the wrong thing to say, and sat up quickly, trying to clear his muzzy head before he said anything else.

"She does," James declared with such certainty that Remus almost asked if they were still talking about the same girl.

Peter, only just quietly watching before, pulled off his shoe and tipped it to drain the water onto the rug. "If you don't want to go out with her, then tell her you changed your mind."

"It's just a favor. She asked me so that she wouldn't have to go alone to this party."

"Remember when Lily liked you in third year?" Peter began hopping on one foot with his finger his ear, his head tipped to the side, and stared at James with wide eyes. "She didn't ask you then. Maybe she's been saving up."

Remus stared back at Peter, suspecting this as payback for not letting Peter copy his astronomy paper outright and then immediately feeling guilty for suspecting anything of Peter than the teasing he probably joined in on if their positions were reversed. "She wasn't allowed to date then, and besides, as I've said, it's not a date."

"You said you didn't like her." Sirius' voice was low and cut through the chatter as other Gryffindors tumbled through the portrait and into the room. Remus realized it must be close to dinner and picked up his book to stand when he found he had to use it as shield instead when James shook his hair out at Remus.

"When?" Remus asked Sirius when he found his way blocked a moment later as he tried to go upstairs to change, and his stomach twisted a bit at the thought that Sirius would always so quickly come to James' defense rather than his own. He hated the confirmation that he would always only just be second best.

"Third year."

"I didn't. I don't now. I mean, I like her but as a friend." Remus dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to stand the intensity with which Sirius still leveled at him, and then cut them at James who pressed in close to Sirius' shoulder. "I'm not going to chase her all over the school like a maniac."

"That's because she's doing the asking," James said. "She'll have to do the chasing." 

"No, it's because..." Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, hating to have this sort of conversation where he couldn't figure out if they were serious or joking when he still had the heaviness of sleep on him. "Look, I'm not interested in Lily like that. Like you. This doesn't mean anything. Poppy says I'm probably just a late bloom--" 

Remus stopped abruptly, clamping his lips together in shock that he'd actually said that out loud but it was too late. James crowed with delight while Peter looked from James to Remus and back again before erupting into his own giggles and Remus couldn't help but notice the way Sirius' face transformed. The storm in his eyes was suddenly gone and his lips quirked into a half-smile as he reached out to smack James in the back of the head when James opened his mouth to tease Remus. That at least was a relief but it didn't stop James from engaging Peter into a long and ridiculous conversation about herbology all through dinner. It was halfway through pudding before James ran out of jokes and began to think of Remus going out with Lily as a grand idea. By the time they were back in their room, he'd already begun plotting ways for Remus to bring James up in conversation.

"I'm absolutely not saying that you're handsome to Lily," Remus insisted for at least the third time as he came out of the bathroom, James following on his heels. 

"Then what are you going to say?"

"I don't know. Maybe we'll talk about Quidditch and I can bring you up then."

"You hate Quidditch," Peter said from where he sat on the edge of James' bed.

"I don't hate it."

"You took a book to the last game."

"I had a book with me and it was a practice. There's a difference." Remus dug through his trunk for a clean shirt, not noticing until he stood that the room had gone quiet. He looked up to where Sirius lay back against the pillows on Remus' bed, not saying anything but flipping through a book that Remus had kept on his night stand. It had belonged to his father, and Sirius stopped every few pages to read the notes the Remus knew would be written in the margins. "I didn't read during your game."

"Don't wear your brown sweater." It was the only response he got from Sirius, who never lifted his eyes from the book, and Remus balled up the offending item and tossed it at Sirius' head. He still didn't look up but caught it deftly and tucked it behind him. 

"I wasn't going to," Remus said, regretting that his voice sounded so peevish but he was well and truly sorry that he had agreed to go out with Lily in the first place, and growing angry that he couldn't just go out with a girl without it becoming an event. "I'm just going to wear this," he said, gesturing to his Muggle jeans and t shirt but immediately feeling self-conscious when Sirius finally lifted his eyes and slowly took Remus in from head-to-toe. He shuffled from foot-to-foot, putting one shoe over the other to hide the hole he'd worn in the canvas and jammed his hands into his pockets. "I have to go or I'll be late."

"Look lads," James said in a mock solemn voice as he grabbed Remus around his chest and wrestled his arms to his side. "Our little Moony is all grown up and got himself a girlfriend. I didn't ever think I'd see this day, what with him being a late bloomer and all."

"Shut it, James." Remus struggled to shake James off, only managing it when James let him go to give a flying tackle to Peter, landing them both on floor. "And I haven't got a girlfriend."

"Peter'll be next." James looked down at Peter from where he sat on Peter's chest and wiped an imaginary tear from his cheek.

"I had a date already." Peter puffed up a bit, managing to push James off and send him sprawling onto his back. "I'm not last."

"Hufflepuffs don't count."

"They do! She let me put my hand beneath her sweater."

"You said it was her skirt before."

"It was dark. I couldn't tell."

"They'll put that on your grave if you're not careful." James jumped to his feet and rounded back on Remus, swinging out to catch him around the neck but Remus was too quick as he ran for the door. "Don't let her kiss you on the first date. She'll think you're easy."

Remus gave a nervous laugh because he hadn't thought about kissing at all, and now he wondered if Lily would expect it at the end of the date. He looked from James to Sirius but knew he couldn't ask either of them since he was positive it would earn him a beating from James, no matter how he joked, and Sirius was obviously in a strop about something. He just nodded vaguely and backed from the room, relieved to the shut the door on them.

His relief was short-lived, however, when the door swung back open and closed just as he was starting down the stairs. Remus looked over his shoulder and saw it was Sirius, and stopped. 

"I really didn't read during your game."

"I don't care about that." Sirius jammed his hands into his pocket and took the next step down so that they were eye-to-eye. "Are you really not interested in her?"

"I told you I wasn't."

"You told me in third year."

"I'm not." Remus took another step down and leaned his back against the cold wall so that he didn't have to see that same strange intensity in Sirius' eyes as earlier. 

"Okay. It's just strange, you going out."

"Why is it so strange that I'm going out with a girl? You and Prongs do it all the time."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"It just is." 

Sirius took a step up as if he was going to escape back up to the dorm but stopped when Remus tugged on the tail of his shirt. They were even again though now it was Sirius who wouldn't look at Remus and Remus felt anger flood back into him. "Wait. Tell me why."

"It's nothing. Just forget it. You're going to be late." Sirius bit off the last word and turned to go again but this time Remus grabbed his wrist.

"No. Why? Because you're normal?

"That's not what I was going to say, Remus." Sirius jerked his arm from Remus' grip and pushed his hand through his hair. "You're perfectly normal. Irritatingly so, sometimes."

"Sure. A perfectly normal werewolf," Remus spat out though he still dropped his voice to a whisper. "Then what is it?"

"I just don't think you're ready."

"Piss off, Black.

"I don't, especially not with Evans."

"She's my friend."

"I'm your friend. Evans is just a girl, and she's not right for you."

"Because of James."

"It's not that."

"Then tell me what it is."

Sirius looked up, away and back again, finally jerking his arm free and collapsing against the wall. "I just don't want you to go out with her."

"Because you want her for yourself?"

"Evans?" Sirius spat out as if Remus had suggested he date one of his cousins and Remus would laugh at the look on his face if it wasn't for how strange Sirius was acting. Remus wished that James or Peter would come out and he looked up at the door, but it stayed firmly shut. "I certainly don't want her. I can barely imagine what James sees in her."

"Then explain this to me because I really don't understand."

"I can't." Sirius sunk down to sit on the stair, and looked up at Remus. For a moment, Remus remembered how Sirius had come to him when his father died and how he kept the tin knight now on his night stand, as some sort of strange souvenir for his first visit to a Muggle home, Remus suspected but never asked because he'd always wanted it to mean something more. 

"I don't even know why we're arguing," Sirius continued, sounding miserable, and Remus hated that he was somehow--inexplicably--the reason. "You've always trusted me before."

"I do trust you," Remus said, collapsing onto the stair next to Sirius and knew immediately that Sirius thought he'd conceded the whole argument by the way he roused.

"Fine then. Just tell her something came up and we'll go do something instead."

"I can't do that. She's waiting for me downstairs. I told her I would go."

"Then I'll go and tell her you don't feel well. That you need to stay in." Sirius got to his feet and grinned impishly at Remus, happy enough to have found his way around Remus' argument. "You won't have to talk to her at all."

"Will you stop it?" Remus got to his feet as well and made to go around Sirius before he could do exactly what he said he would. "I do trust you, you know I do, but either tell me what's going on or stop it because I'm nervous enough without you thinking I'm some sort of first year who needs his hand held--"

"I don't."

"Or some kind of freak who doesn't deserve to go near a girl."

"You know I don't think that."

"Then what is it?" Sirius bit his lip and looked away but didn't answer. "Right. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll see you later, Black."

Remus turned and went down a couple of stairs, the bright lights of the common room spilling out onto the next landing, before he was stopped again by Sirius' hand tight on his arm. "I don't want you to go, not with her. Just do this for me and don't ask any questions for once. Please."

"This really is about James, isn't it. It's always the two of you and me and Peter second. If I go down there and break it off, then it's just going to confirm what everyone already thinks about me."

"Who cares what they think?"

"I do. You and James walk around here like you own the entire school but that doesn't stop people talking about me. Do you have any idea what they say?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed as he looked down the stairs toward the common room. "If someone's said something to you about being a--"

"It's not about that," Remus said before Sirius could say the word.

"Whatever it's about then--you tell me. Or James."

"Bring my problems to Black and Potter. That's exactly why they made me prefect."

"This has nothing to do with that." Sirius put his hands on Remus' shoulder and turned him roughly, shaking him slightly. "I take care of you, you know that."

"Too well."

"Would you rather I didn't?"

"I would rather you didn't treat me differently. I just want to be the same as everybody else."

"You're not the same."

"I know." Remus pulled away from Sirius and took the last of the stairs at a run. 

All evening, he replayed their conversation in his head, until Lily asked him first if he was unwell and then if he was bored. He wanted to tell her then as they left the party and he followed her outside, the grounds dark under the new moon, but he bit back the words, not wanting to hear her estimation of Sirius Black. They ended up in their common room playing chess very poorly until she'd finally begged off to bed.

When he at last went up to his room, he found James had waited up, wanting to know everything though Sirius had gone to bed, turning so that Remus could only see the long line of his bare back. An hour later, Remus finally closed his curtains and cast his silencing charm. He waited up, willing Padfoot to come snuffling around but he never did.


	8. August 12, 1976

Getting to the village where Remus lived with his mother had been easier than Sirius thought it would be, but finding the farm had been a little more difficult. He remembered Remus speaking of the river and figured it must be near the woods he'd seen from Remus' window, but he hadn't known the river branched off twice before converging and flowing to the south. It had taken some time doubling back but then Padfoot had done the rest, catching Remus' faint scent along the main road and then off through a field where Remus must have taken a short cut. By the time he got to Remus’ home, Sirius had missed the moon by a two full days and had to wait for his chance to see Remus without his mum finding out.

Admittedly, Sirius hadn't really planned this out at all and James, had he known where Sirius was really heading, would have been only too happy to point out all the flaws in Sirius’ plan and suggest something better, something more direct like as not. Sirius hadn't wanted direct. He wasn't convinced that Remus would be happy to see him and was certain Mrs. Lupin wouldn't be, especially not so close to the moon. He actually saw her first and thought she looked older by years than when Sirius had seen her at the funeral. Her blonde hair seemed to have gone gray and thin, escaping its bun in wisps around her face, and there were lines around her mouth and eyes that hadn't been there before. Sirius knew Remus took after his father, but could now plainly recognize Remus in his mother's face as she stood at the back door, her arms folded tightly over chest as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Her hands shook, he could tell from where he hid in the underbrush, but she'd been bold enough when she'd shooed him off twice earlier that morning.

It was going late in the afternoon when Remus finally stepped out, wearing a worn t-shirt that had actually once belonged to James and jeans that had gone a bit short on him. He blinked several times before he narrowed his eyes and searched the edges of the property. Padfoot waited to come out until Remus took a few steps into the overgrown garden, crawling on his belly, before he trotted over and shoved his great head beneath Remus' bandaged hand to have his ears scratched.

"Don't get attached, Remus." Remus looked over his shoulder to where his mum stood in the doorway again, watching her son as she idly folded a tea towel over and over. "He's absolutely not coming inside."

"He's probably housebroken." Remus grinned down at the dog and Padfoot sat back on his haunches, giving a sigh that sounded long-suffering, and leaned his head heavily against Remus' thigh as Remus continued to pet him.

"They shouldn't let a great, dirty dog like that run about. He looks dangerous."

"Don't flatter him. It'll go straight to his head."

"What?"

"Nothing, mum. I'm sure he belongs somewhere and just ran off for an adventure. He looks too well fed to be a stray." Padfoot gave a quiet woof, managing to sound indignant and making Remus laugh quietly. "I'll take him over to Mr. Boyd's farm. He probably knows where he belongs."

"Do you think you should?" Remus' mum asked as she took another step outside the house. "You're still weak."

"I'm fine, mum. I won't be long."

Remus walked down the garden and into the woods, his hands outstretched to bat at the long weeds that had shot up in the once prim borders. Fluff danced on the air behind them as Padfoot followed at Remus' side, and they were nearly to the river before Sirius transformed. They continued along the banks, not talking, the grass looking impossibly green and soft beneath Remus' bare feet in the sunny patches, Sirius still following along quietly wherever Remus would lead him. Sirius kept sneaking looks at Remus from beneath the long brush of his fringe, but Remus only kept on silently. 

Things had been strange between them in the last month at Hogwarts, with Remus only relaxing enough to joke around when James or Peter were about but going stiff and awkward when they were alone. James thought it was because Remus didn't want to go home, to which conclusion Sirius had asked who did, and said just because things were unbearable at Grimmauld Place he didn't go about acting like an insufferable prig to his mates. James would just fix him with a strange stare until Sirius felt bad enough to mumble about pranking Snape or his brother just to make James think about something else other than Remus. Sirius never said a word about their argument to James and now, as he stole another peek at Remus, he didn't think Remus had either.

"You've gone taller again," Sirius said after a while, and watched with some fascination as Remus' lips twitched into something that Sirius couldn't quite identify. He wondered when Remus had stopped being the book he knew by heart. "You're taller than James now. He won't like it."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"Did you kiss Lily?" That at least got Remus to stop and shove his hands deep in the pockets of his worn jeans. Sirius watched as Remus curled his toes into the grass before he rocked back and forth on his heels and pulled his hands out to cross them in front of his chest.

"Did you come here to ask me that?"

"No. I wanted to know if you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"You always say that." Sirius walked closer to the water's edge, making sure to bump his shoulder into Remus', but he didn't say anything else until he felt Remus move to stand next to him. "I meant, how was the moon?"

"It was fine."

"I don't like not being there."

"It was fine."

"So you keep saying." 

A smile ghosted over Remus' lips and Sirius turned away to walk toward a tree that overhung the bend in the river, the same bend that had confused him a few days before, he realized. He leaned against the trunk and unrolled a packet of cigarettes from his shirt sleeve, cheap American ones that smelled awful, according to James, and realized he'd left his lighter at his camp or lost it, so tucked them into his back pocket. Remus watched him for a bit before turning his back and scooping up a handful of pebbles and wet sand. He waded out into the river to his ankles and skipped the rocks, bending to rinse each one off before he tossed it with a precision that Sirius has never been able to match, though Remus had tried to teach him when they were younger.

It was when his hands were empty again that Remus turned toward Sirius, his jeans now wet to the knees, and fixed his mouth into an expression that he usually reserved for third years he caught out of bounds during his prefect rounds. "What are you _really_ doing here, Sirius?"

"I _really_ wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You could have owled."

"Not the same." Sirius pushed himself off the tree and walked over to the bank of the river. He was glad he still had a few inches on Remus, though he suspected that maybe that gap would be closed by the end of the year. "Despite being told off in grand fashion for worrying about you, I needed to see you so I knew if you're really fine or just telling me that because you think it'll shut me up."

Remus lifted his chin and raised his eyes to the very tops of the trees, it seemed, his lips pressed tight together before he quirked a smile that faded almost instantly as he stepped out of the water to stand next to Sirius again. "Sorry about that."

It was the closest they had come to talking about what had happened, and Sirius shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. He picked up Remus' hand and edged up the tape on the bandage there, looking inside before he smoothed it back down. "It's okay. I was being...weird."

"I won't argue."

"So, did you kiss her?"

"You won't tell James?"

"No," Sirius bit out and dropped Remus' hand, turning to take up his spot against the tree trunk again.

"I didn't."

Sirius looked up in surprise and narrowed his eyes. "Did she kiss you?"

"You're an idiot," Remus huffed and Sirius couldn't tell if he was laughing or not, if he was laughing at Sirius. "I told you it wasn't like that. It was just a favor and she's just a friend. I told both you and James that."

Sirius wanted to ask if Remus had thought about it, or if there was another girl he wanted to kiss, but decided he honestly didn't want the answer. He told himself that it was enough that James made a complete ass over himself over girls--or, a girl, rather--and Peter followed suit in his own clumsy way, but he felt comforted to know that he should have trusted that Remus would be as steady and sensible in this as he was about everything else.

"You should sit down," Sirius said suddenly, leaving off the subject of girls entirely.

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Your mum would be mad with me if she knew we walked so far."

"It's not that far. The road is just up there," Remus said, pointing behind Sirius. "She'd hate it more just knowing there was another Wizard about. She thinks everyone is from the Ministry. She won't let Poppy or Professor McGonagall visit anymore."

"Did they before?"

"Yeah." Remus dipped his head. "I mean, sometimes, after the moon. They would heal the worst of the cuts and such. I don't think she'd let me go back to Hogwarts if she hadn't already promised Dumbledore."

"I thought your aunts lived here now."

"Just the one, my mum's middle sister. That doesn't make it better. They're all Muggles."

"Do they know about you?"

Remus laughed, though there was no humor in it. "They know I'm different."

"I meant, do they know--"

"That I'm a werewolf? No. They're already afraid of me. They think I'm a hooligan. They suspect that Hogwarts is a school for troubled boys, and if they caught sight of you..."

"You are trouble, of the first order. James still whinges about the time you tried to make his antlers permanent."

"They suit him."

"Muggles are strange. How do they not know if they're living with you?"

"My mother makes excuses for my scars. It was easier this time. My aunt went to visit her daughter in Kent for the week. We didn't have to lie about anything." Something like anger flashed across Remus' face, his mouth working hard against the words he held back, and Sirius wished he would say them aloud. He didn't, though; he never did. Remus swallowed hard and blinked several times before he shoved his hands into his pockets and rounded his shoulders. "I don't want to talk about them," he said after a few minutes. "It's only a few weeks until we go back to Hogwarts. I suppose you'll be staying with James again soon?"

"Actually, I'm there already." Sirius stopped and watched Remus intently for his reaction, his palms sweaty as he curled them into fists in his pockets. "I ran away from home."

"You what? Why didn't you say?"

"I'm telling you now."

"When? You could have owled, or James."

"I told him not to, or else he would have, straight off." The truth was that Sirius had wanted this from Remus--craved it. Where James had railed against the Blacks, attempting to shout down the Potters’ more temperate response until James' mum threatened to make him go up to his room to calm down if he didn't quit stomping about, Remus was all quiet tension and worry, his hands reaching out for Sirius before he realized what he was doing and wrapping them around his thin chest. Sirius fingered the misshapen lump that hung from a chain in the V of his t shirt, watching Remus' eyes go to it before he looked back to Sirius.

"What happened?"

"It's stupid. At Christmas I put up these Muggle posters in my room for a joke and they didn't care. I mean, they never went up there anyway, but a couple of weeks ago I found an old Barbarella poster at a market when James and I went. My father went mental. Mother said if I left then I could never come back, as if I would."

"Surely she didn't mean it."

"Do you honestly think I'd go back?" Sirius spit out, his voice incredulous.

"It was a poster, Sirius."

"It wasn't just about the stupid poster." Sirius pushed his hands through his hair and scowled at Remus. "Did you know that James' dad caused a scandal during the Hogwarts' Board of Governors meetings?"

"What does that have to do with you running away?"

"My father is on that board, too. Some of them wanted to put all the Muggle-borns into Hufflepuff straight off rather than having a sorting. Mr. Potter argued them down, of course. My dad took it further, though. He wanted to turn them straight out of school. He doesn't think they should be educated. He thinks that _you_ shouldn't be there."

"Me?"

"You. Muggle-borns. Anyone who isn't a pureblood. I just..." For a long time they were quiet, Remus watching Sirius while he stood with his hands on his hips, until suddenly Sirius wanted to say everything out loud, even the things he hadn't told James. There was no breeze in the glade where they were sheltered, and the heat of the late afternoon pressed in on them. Sirius thought about just changing back into Padfoot because it was easier--because it would be so much easier. Instead, he began to dig out his pack of cigarettes again before remembering about the lighter, and cursed under his breath.

"There's a group," he began quietly, almost not even loud enough to be heard, and didn't look up to see if Remus was still listening to him but trusting that he would be. "Bella belongs, and Lucius--I mean, every one of my cousins except Andromeda, I think. You know what I mean."

"Yeah. I know."

"They wanted me to join. My father. I refused and he called me a blood traitor. He tried to destroy everything that was Muggle in my room. The stupid posters and the books I had and the records that James let me borrow." Sirius' hand went back to the necklace he wore and saw when Remus finally recognized it as the tin knight he'd taken from Remus' room, destroyed now, the knight's sword the only bit still recognizable. "I told them no."

"I knew you would have, Sirius."

"Reg didn't. At least, I don't think he did. I don't think he would or could, and I shouldn't leave him, I know, but I'm not going back."

"No," Remus whispered, though he looked troubled as he continued to stare at the lump of tin at Sirius' throat, his hands twisting together.

Sirius took Remus' hand between his own, worried that Remus would open the wound, and smoothed down the edges of the bandage again. "Don't tell anyone about Reg. Don't tell James, not yet."

"He doesn't know?" It was Remus' turn to look surprised.

"You know how he gets. He'll want to fix it and he can't. He can't fix this."

"That what he does, Sirius.”

"I know. Look, I'm fine, yeah? Isn't that what we say?" Sirius leaned down a bit to look at Remus, forcing a smile he didn't feel and found that Remus answered with an even grimmer one. "You're my family. You, Peter and James. James always says we're as good as brothers, me and him."

"And what's Peter?"

"A distant cousin," Sirius said, this time forcing a laugh and being rewarded when Remus' smile turned a bit more genuine even if his eyes were still hazy with his concern. "The kind that doesn't attempt to recruit me as a Death Eater."

"And me? What am I?"

"You're everything else."

"I don't fancy being your mum, Black."

Sirius took a step closer, too close, but Remus didn't move away. He put his suddenly shaking hands on Remus' waist and noticed that in the sunlight, he could see the flecks of gold around the iris of Remus' eyes and he wondered why he'd never noticed that before. Remus looked back at him so steadily and for so long that Sirius felt a little weak on his legs, swallowing once and then again.

"I don't think of you as my mum, Remus," he finally whispered, his breath ghosting across Remus' lips. Remus smiled, and Sirius wanted to taste it.

Sirius closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his lips to Remus', heard Remus inhale in surprise, felt Remus' hands flutter first to Sirius' hands at his waist, to Sirius' elbows before landing on Sirius' shoulders, his fingers clutching at the thin material of his t-shirt. Encouraged by the fact that Remus hadn't pushed him away, Sirius took a step closer, pushing Remus' back against the tree trunk. He turned his head slightly and opened his mouth, touched Remus' closed lips with his tongue and found that Remus tasted of strawberry jam and the sun. He licked again, and this time Remus' lips parted to him and Sirius leaned in closer, moving his hands to rest on the small of Remus' back and his tongue sliding into Remus' mouth, meeting Remus' as they deepened their kiss.

Sirius didn't pull away but pushed forward, pressing against Remus, kissing him and thinking he could do this forever, and only stopped when Remus tugged his hair. He drew away slightly, his eyes at half-mast and still focused on Remus' lips, vaguely wondering when Remus' hand had tangled itself into his hair.

"It's my mum," Remus whispered.

Remus' cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright when Sirius finally looked up as he tried to understand what Remus was saying to him. "What?"

"My mum."

"Remus!" 

Sirius finally heard Mrs. Lupin though she still sounded far away, not nearly close enough to have caught them, though her voice sounded panicked.

"Dammit. She's probably worried the great, dirty dog has eaten me."

"Woof."

Remus dropped his forehead to Sirius’ shoulder, his laugh sounding a bit hysterical, though he swallowed it back by the time he straightened up. "You have to go, Sirius."

This time Remus stepped away from him, out of his arms, and Sirius let him go though he watched closely as Remus looked up toward the road where his mother called and pressed his fingers against his lips. Sirius took a step closer to him, reaching for him, before he realized what he was doing--what he'd done--and his stomach twisted.

"I'm sorry, Remus."

"What? It's okay, Sirius. Just go before she sees you."

"Don't tell James I was here, okay?"

"I won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

With that, Sirius transformed back into Padfoot and bounded away into the undergrowth, running until he couldn't anymore. Transforming back into a boy, he lay on his back and gasped for air, his lungs burning, and he itched again for a cigarette even as he swore off them. He hadn't meant for that to happen. He had _never_ meant for that to happen, and he didn't understand why he couldn't stop messing things up with Remus.


End file.
